Carlule 


OE  CALIF.;  IIBRAfiY.T  EOS  ANGELES 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 


THE  FUGITIVE 
MILLIONAIRE 

BY 

ANTHONY  CARLYLE 

AUTHOR  OF  "GRAINS  OF  DUST"  AND  "THE  HOOFSLIDE" 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

£(je  fctoewfoe  $re*£  Cambribge 

1922 


COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY  THE  CROWELL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY  HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


THIS  BOOK  IS  PUBLISHED  IN  ENGLAND  UNDER  THE  TITLE  OF 
"  THE  TAVERN  AND  THE  ARROWS  " 


CfK  -Ribtrcfbe  $recf« 

CAMBRIDGE  •  MASSACHUSETTS 
PRINTED  IN  THE  U.S.A. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 


CHAPTER  I 

"  You  'LL  have  to  marry,  Lee !  There  is 
absolutely  nothing  else  for  it!" 

Mrs.  Dorice  stirred  among  her  piled-up 
cushions,  dropped  her  cigarette  ash  untidily 
onto  the  carpet,  and  pushed  a  pile  of  bills  pet- 
ulantly off  her  knees. 

Her  small,  fair,  rather  exquisitely  tinted 
face  was  clouded,  her  clear,  carefully  modu- 
lated but  hard  voice  was  querulous.  She 
looked  across  at  the  slim,  straight,  white-clad 
figure  at  the  window  at  once  speculatively 
and  with  annoyance.  She  found  her  step- 
daughter annoying  more  often  than  not;  and 
she  was  never  wholly  at  her  ease  with  her. 

There  was  something  about  Lee's  power  of 
listening  to  a  conversation  or  argument  in 
complete  silence  which  was  discomfiting  as 
well  as  irritating.  Moreover,  she  found  it 
quite  impossible  to  fathom  the  working  of  the 


2       THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

girl's  mind  behind  her  long,  grey,  black-lashed 
eyes.  Outwardly,  at  any  rate,  Lee  Dorice  was 
never  ruffled,  angry,  or  dismayed.  She  ac- 
cepted pleasant  or  unpleasant  things  with  the 
same  expressionless  calm. 

Men  found  her  difficult  to  get  on  with, 
though  decidedly  intriguing  and  attractive. 
Women — for  the  most  part — avoided  her. 
They  did  not  understand  her  any  more  than 
her  stepmother  understood  her.  There  was 
an  aloofness  about  her  supreme  indifference 
to  the  ordinary  pettinesses  of  everyday  exis- 
tence which  they  openly  deplored,  and  envied 
in  secret.  It  gave  her  an  air  of  distinction 
which  singled  her  out  for  notice  wherever  she 
might  go,  and  made  her  completely  different 
from  other  girls. 

Beyond  this  there  was  nothing  very  remark- 
able about  her.  Her  beauty  was  of  the  kind 
that  makes  itself  felt  slowly,  rather  than  at 
once.  She  was  pale,  extremely  slender,  boy- 
ishly graceful.  Her  eyes  were  grave,  stead- 
fast, and  clear.  The  blackness  of  her  lashes 
made  them  seem  much  darker  than  they  were 
in  reality.  Her  features  were  good,  not 
strictly  regular,  and  the  vividly  red  mouth 
was  perfect.  She  carried  herself  superbly, 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE       3 

and  dressed  with  a  shrewd  good  judgment 
and  taste  which  made  even  well  and  expen- 
sively dressed  women  regard  her  wistfully. 

There  was  nothing  "  fluffy  "  about  her.  She 
wore  her  hair  smoothly  and  neatly  knotted  at 
the  back  of  her  small  head,  and  only  a  few  of 
her  acquaintances  knew  that  it  was  long 
enough  and  thick  enough  to  cover  her  like  a 
cloak  to  her  knees.  It  was  black  with  a  den- 
sity seldom  seen  in  the  hair  of  any  but  Oriental 
women,  or  a  rare  type  of  Irish,  and  it  made  the 
whiteness  of  her  skin  dazzling. 

She  stood  now  with  her  hands  resting 
lightly  on  the  window-sill,  her  eyes  upon  the 
distant  sea.  A  faint  haze  slightly  obscured  the 
sun,  and  softened  the  rather  rugged,  rocky 
coast-line.  Through  the  mist,  seemingly  very 
far  away,  loomed  a  high  grey  shape,  like  a 
huge  hillock.  Lee's  rather  sombre  gaze 
shifted  slowly  to  it,  and  grew  momentarily 
intent.  But  she  did  not  answer  Mrs.  Dorice, 
and  after  a  moment  that  lady  spoke  again, 
with  some  asperity. 

"  Are  you  listening,  Lee?" 

Lee  nodded. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  returned  quietly — "  I  'm 
listening." 


4       THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

She  changed  her  position  slightly,  leaning 
a  shoulder  against  the  window-frame  and  tilt- 
ing her  head  back. 

Mrs.  Dorice  frowned,  then  sighed  exasper- 
atedly. 

"  You  are  quite  the  most  impossible  person! 
Almost  as  bad  as  your  poor  dear  father  was! " 

Lee  stirred,  and  her  black  brows  met  for  an 
instant,  but  she  made  no  comment.  Only  into 
the  wide  eyes  there  crept  a  great  wistfulness, 
a  great  regret.  Her  father  had  been  very  dear 
to  her,  her  constant  companion  and  friend, 
her  only  intimate.  Life  at  his  side  had  been 
well  worth  living,  if  not  prolific  of  luxuries, 
until  his  utterly  unexpected  and  mistaken 
marriage  to  Teresa  Ford,  an  appealing  and 
more  than  pretty  widow  of  thirty,  possessed 
of  an  overgrown,  lanky,  and  wilful  daughter 
of  twelve. 

This  had  happened  five  years  ago,  when 
Lee  was  not  quite  nineteen.  Mrs.  Ford,  having 
contracted  a  ridiculously  early  marriage  with 
a  penniless  boy  not  many  years  her  senior, 
had  regretted  it  and  her  lost  opportunities 
ever  since.  She  had  welcomed  the  advent  of 
her  child  with  resignation  and  the  subsequent 
decease  of  its  father  with  relief.  She  was 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE       5 

young,  attractive,  with  extravagant  tastes  and 
somewhat  highly  coloured  ambitions.  She 
was  sufficiently  well-bred  to  hold  her  own  in 
any  society;  she  was  clever,  conceited,  and 
very  sure  of  herself. 

With  the  death  of  her  child's  father  she  had 
matter-of-factly  made  up  her  mind  to  marry 
again,  but  this  time  advantageously.  Unfor- 
tunately those  men  with  whom  she  was  able 
to  come  in  contact  were  neither  wealthy  nor 
important.  It  was  not  until  grave-eyed,  am- 
iable Tom  Dorice  had  drifted  across  her  path 
that  she  had  seen  any  hope  of  attaining  her 
desires. 

He  was  plainly  good-tempered,  unmistak- 
ably a  gentleman.  He  was  generous  in  expen- 
diture, and  when  his  occasional  literary  efforts 
brought  him  in  anything  substantial  in  pay- 
ment he  lived  up  to  his  possessions.  He  was 
in  funds  when  Mrs.  Ford  had  met  him.  His 
name  was  an  old  and  good  one;  by  dint  of 
judicious  inquiry  Mrs.  Ford  discovered  that 
his  connections  were  wealthy,  and  that  a 
remote  cousin  was  a  baronet. 

After  some  slight  consideration  she  had 
decided  upon  conquest;  and,  rather  miracu- 
lously, had  achieved  it.  Long  afterwards 


6       THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Dorice  confessed,  sheepishly,  to  his  bewildered 
daughter  that  he  had  not  the  faintest  idea  of 
how  the  thing  had  happened.  He  seemed 
scarcely  to  remember  proposing.  Certainly 
he  was  neither  infatuated  nor  in  love  with 
Teresa. 

But  she  led  him  triumphantly  to  the  altar, 
and  only  when  it  was  too  late  discovered  that, 
far  from  being  a  man  of  means,  he  was  pos- 
sessed of  an  income  which  had  made  existence 
for  two  merely  comfortable. 

The  blow  had  been  severe,  but  she  had 
comforted  herself  with  the  reflection  that  as 
Mrs.  Dorice  she  had  a  higher  social  standing 
than  a  richer  man  might  have  given  her,  could 
move  among  people  of  position  and  a  certain 
importance,  while  her  active  mind  dwelt 
secretly  upon  the  bare  possibility  of  Tom  Dor- 
ice  stepping,  romantically,  into  his  distant  and 
titled  cousin's  shoes. 

This,  however,  had  not  happened.  The  dis- 
tant cousin  was  also  struck  with  the  idea  of 
matrimony,  and  within  course  of  time  rejoiced 
in  the  possession  of  a  sturdy  heir.  This  fur- 
ther blow  had  almost  embittered  Teresa;  and 
then,  while  she  was  yet  sombrely  reflecting 
upon  it,  Tom  Dorice  had  been  brought  back 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE       7 

to  her  from  the  hunting  field  one  morning  with 
his  back  broken. 

He  had  died  with  Lee's  hand  in  his,  smiling 
at  her  steadfastly,  but  without  speaking.  He 
had  not  much  to  leave,  sufficient  perhaps  to 
bring  in  an  income  of  a  bare  five  hundred  a 
year;  and  that,  in  a  moment  of  mental  aber- 
ration, and  fancying  that  he  was  doing  the 
right  thing,  he  had  left,  in  a  hastily  made  but 
perfectly  valid  will,  to  his  second  wife. 

He  had  meant  no  neglect  of  his  daughter 
— that  daughter  who  looked  at  him  with  his 
first  wife's  eyes  and  smiled  with  her  smile. 
Yet  he  had  made  her,  by  a  stroke  of  his  care- 
less pen,  utterly  and  completely  dependent 
upon  the  woman  who  had  usurped  her 
mother's  place. 

The  girl  had  uttered  no  protest;  had  shown 
nothing  of  what  she  felt.  She  had  known  her 
father  so  well,  and  in  her  every  thought  of 
him  there  was  an  indulgent  tenderness  rather 
than  hurt  or  resentment. 

But  she  felt  her  position  keenly,  the  more 
so  as  Mrs.  Dorice,  while  a  little  afraid  of  her, 
was  not  the  sort  of  woman  to  allow  her  to 
forget  it  even  for  a  moment. 

Lee  felt  herself  an  encumbrance,  and  found 


8       THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

it  increasingly  intolerable.  At  the  same  time 
it  was  impossible  to  break  free.  She  was  well- 
bred,  cultured,  charming,  but  she  had  few 
accomplishments  that  were  of  a  marketable 
value.  It  had  never  been  Tom  Dorice's  inten- 
tion that  she  should  work  for  a  living;  she 
realised  herself,  dismayedly,  that  she  was 
incapable  of  doing  so. 

She  roused  from  her  sombre  memories  at 
Mrs.  Dorice's  next  words. 

"  Anyway,  things  can't  go  on  much  longer 
like  this!  It  's  bad  enough  to  have  the  ex- 
pense of  bringing  up  Terry,  and  dressing  her, 
but  with  you  on  my  hands  as  well  I  'm  nearly 
at  my  wit's  end!  If  you  were  n't  quite  so 
standoffish,  Lee,  you  'd  be  a  good  deal  more 
attractive  to  men,  let  me  tell  you  that.  You 
Ve  looks,  of  course  " — the  concession  was 
so  grudging  that  Lee  unexpectedly  smiled — 
"  but  looks  are  n't  much  good  without  a  little 
animation." 

Lee  shrugged. 

"  I  'm  not  aware,"  she  observed  drily, 
"  that — just  lately — we  Ve  met  any  men 
worth  attracting!  One  can't  look  upon  sea- 
side acquaintances  as  prospective  husbands, 
you  know!" 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE       9 

"  I  don't  know  anything  of  the  sort!"  Te- 
resa's voice  was  sharp.  "I  Ve  found  that 
one  meets  really  nice  people  at  the  seaside. 
But  of  course  you  give  yourself  such  airs!" 

Lee  laughed  rather  sadly,  but  she  made  no 
comment.  Her  eyes  were  still  upon  the  un- 
gainly, indistinct  bulk  looming  through  the 
mist,  her  lips  pressing  so  firmly  together  that 
her  whole  pale  face  looked  unnaturally  hard. 

Teresa  Dorice  recovered  her  bills,  and 
viciously  flung  her  half-smoked  cigarette  into 
the  empty  hearth. 

"  As  to  meeting  people,"  she  proceeded, 
"  we  won't  be  here  much  longer.  I  'm  tired 
of  it;  it  's  too  dull  and  too  expensive.  I  Ve 
decided  to  go  back  to  town  at  the  end  of  the 
week." 

Lee  straightened  herself,  and  turned  slowly 
into  the  room. 

"  I  'm  going  to-morrow,"  she  announced. 
"  I  had  a  letter  from  Patty  Clay  asking  me  to 
join  her  there  and  go  on  with  her  for  a  fort- 
night to  her  place  in  Surrey.  I  accepted — 
chiefly  because  I  thought  it  would  be  a  relief 
to  you  to  have  me  off  your  hands  if  only  for  a 
couple  of  weeks!" 

There  was  no  bitterness  in  her  voice;  never- 


10     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

theless  Mrs.  Dorice  stirred  uncomfortably. 
Again  her  voice  was  sharp  when  she  answered. 

"  You  can't  blame  me  if  it  is!"  she  point- 
ed out.  "  Things  are  getting  more  impossible 
every  day.  I  hardly  know  where  to  turn. 
One  can't  live  suitably  on  what  I  've  got, 
and  keep  two  girls  as  well.  And  Terry  's 
growing  up.  She  's  seventeen — " 

She  checked  herself,  and  flushed. 

As  a  rule  she  was  careful  to  avoid  any  men- 
tion of  her  daughter's  age,  and  generally 
spoke  of  her  as  "  my  little  girl."  Secretly 
she  rejoiced  that  a  very  curly,  rather  close- 
cropped  nutbrown  head,  an  affection  for  very 
short  skirts,  and  a  decidedly  diminutive  stat- 
ure made  Terry  appear  a  full  two  years 
younger  than  she  was. 

She  encouraged  a  display  of  long  black- 
stockinged  legs,  and  a  liking  for  rather  child- 
ish amusements;  smiled  indulgently  at  a 
somewhat  slipshod  manner  of  speaking,  inter- 
spersed with  slang,  and  was  often  heard  to 
quote,  in  soft  admonishment,  that  "  little  girls 
should  be  seen,  and  not  heard! " 

Terry  was  quite  well  aware  of  her  motives, 
and  grinned  impishly  at  them.  She  was,  per- 
sonally, quite  content  with  the  arrangement. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     11 

She  had  a  lot  of  freedom,  and  used  it  as  she 
chose.  Her  feeling  towards  her  mother  was 
tolerantly  contemptuous  rather  than  affec- 
tionate ;  she  avoided  her  company  as  much  as 
possible,  and  for  the  most  part  completely 
ignored  her  authority. 

She  enjoyed  herself  thoroughly,  and  ac- 
cepted her  childish  role  amusedly.  She  was 
in  no  haste  to  grow  up. 

Lee,  thinking  of  her,  frowned.  She  was 
more  than  a  little  fond  of  Terry,  and  regretted 
her  upbringing.  She  looked  now  at  Mrs. 
Dorice. 

"  I  know,"  she  said.  "  And  she  '11  soon  have 
to  stop  running  wild  like  this,  of  course. 
Oh,  I  assure  you,  Teresa,  I  'm  by  no  means 
blind  to  the  fact  that  I  am  not  only  not 
wanted,  but  very  much  in  the  way.  I  am  in 
your  way  now — in  a  little  while  I  shall  be  in 
Terry's!  Believe  me,  the  position  is  as  gall- 
ing for  me  as  it  is  annoying  for  you.  But 
I  'm  quite  helpless  to  alter  it.  I  was  n't,  un- 
fortunately, brought  up  to  be  useful!  And 
father  never  meant  me  to  be  dependent." 

Mrs.  Dorice  sat  up  quickly.  A  little  angry 
flush  ran  up  over  her  fair  skin;  her  big,  pansy 
eyes  began  to  sparkle. 


12     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  Are  you,"  she  demanded,  "  trying  to  in- 
sinuate that  your  father  was  influenced  in  his 
disposal  of  his  property?  That — " 

"  I  am  insinuating  nothing,"  Lee  interrupt- 
ed. "  I  am  merely  stating  a  fact.  He  did  not 
realise  what  he  was  doing  when  he  left  every- 
thing to  you,  otherwise  he  would  not  have 
done  it.  He  would  not  have  been  so  unjust. 
You  see  " — her  voice  seemed  to  catch  for  an 
instant — "  it  was  n't  as  if  his  health  was  not 
of  the  best.  He  expected  to  live  so  much 
longer,  and  I  suppose  " — there  was  a  sudden 
bitterness  in  her  tone — "  that  he,  too,  expect- 
ed I  should  be  provided  for  long  before  his 
death.  As  it  is — " 

"  As  it  is,"  Mrs.  Dorice  was  wrought  up 
enough  to  declare,  "  you  're  most  ungrateful, 
and  positively  insulting  at  times.  Really,  Lee, 
I  find  it  more  difficult  to  get  on  with  you  every 
day!" 

Lee  did  hpt  answer.  She  crossed  the  room, 
picked  up  a  thick  white  sports  coat,  and  a 
close-fitting  hat,  and  proceeded  to  put  them 
on.  Her  face  was  expressionless,  but  a  close 
observer  would  have  seen  that  her  eyes  were 
very  dark,  as  if  with  anger,  and  that  her 
hands  trembled  a  little. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     13 

At  the  door  she  glanced  back. 

"  I  'm  going  for  a  row,"  she  said  levelly. 
"  I  shan't  be  back  to  tea,  and  something 
cold  for  supper  will  do  when  I  come  in." 

She  laid  her  hand  on  the  knob,  but  paused 
as  Mrs.  Dorice  gave  a  little  exclamation. 

"  Really,  Lee !  You  were  telling  me  about 
going  to  Patty  Clay's  to-morrow,  and  if  you 
leave  early  I  shall  certainly  not  see  you  before 
you  start.  I  suppose  you  '11  join  us  after- 
wards in  town?" 

Lee  lifted  her  brows. 

"  I  suppose  so.  Unless  you  change  your 
mind  and  don't  go  back!  But  I  '11  write  you, 
anyway." 

Mrs.  Dorice  drummed  her  fingers  on  the 
arm  of  her  chair. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  suggested  tentatively, 
"  you  could  n't  take  Terry?  She  is  always 
so  much  wilder  when  you  're  not  about,  and 
besides  she  gets  on  my  nerves.  She — " 

"  Patty  Clay  does  n't  know  Terry,"  Lee 
interrupted  uncompromisingly,  "  and,  any- 
way, she  is  n't  fond  of  flappers." 

Teresa's  lips  tightened,  but  she  shrugged 
resignedly. 

"  Ah,  well.    I  suppose  it  's  out  of  the  ques- 


14     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

tion.  Anyway,  you  're  lucky  to  be  going. 
Patty  always  gives  you  a  good  time,  does  n't 
she — and  I  suppose  there  '11  be  a  crowd  of 
interesting  people  there.  Perhaps  " — she 
stopped  drumming  on  the  chair  to  look  with 
new  eagerness  at  the  girl — "  you  '11  meet 
some  men  there  who  will  be  more  congenial. 
If  so—" 

She  stopped.  Lee  met  her  eyes  suddenly, 
straightly.  She  spoke  with  a  note  in  her  voice 
that  Teresa  had  never  heard  in  it  before. 

"  My  dear  Teresa,"  she  cried,  "  I  '11  prom- 
ise you  this.  The  very  first  man.  who  asks 
me  to  marry  him,  whoever  he  is,  or  whatever 
he  is— I  '11  accept!" 


CHAPTER  II 

UPON  her  way  to  the  shore  Lee  came  upon 
Terry.  She  was  the  centre  of  a  group  of  men 
and  girls,  all  of  them  chance  acquaintances, 
and  was  energetically  sucking  peppermints 
while  she  talked. 

She  had  been  bathing,  and  was  attired  in  a 
limp  linen  skirt,  and  a  striped  jumper  that 
had  seen  much  service.  Feet  and  legs  were 
bare,  her  hair  was  still  wet,  and  a  couple  of 
sodden  bath-towels  hung  over  her  arm. 

Terry  was  not  yet  at  an  age  when  appear- 
ance meant  very  much  to  her.  She  disliked 
intensely  having  to  be  careful  of  her  clothes, 
and  Mrs.  Dorice  encouraged  this  attitude  by 
providing  her  only  with  the  plainest  of 
apparel. 

Oddly  enough  her  lack  of  adornment  lent 
the  girl  attraction.  She  was  thin  to  a  degree, 
and  awkward  as  a  young  colt,  and  in  conven- 
tional garb  she  looked,  as  she  herself  cheer- 
fully described  it,  a  "  freak."  The  short  skirt 
and  rough  wool  jumper  suited  her.  She  looked 
nothing  more  than  a  child  in  it. 


16     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Her  face  and  arms  and  neck  were  burned 
a  uniform  deep  brown.  Her  eyes  were  brown 
too — the  red,  warm,  clear  brown  of  an  Irish 
setter's.  There  was  nothing  of  the  pansy 
softness  of  her  mother's  about  them,  but  they 
were  large,  and  clear,  and  well-shaped,  black- 
lashed  as  Lee's  own,  and  full  of  fire  and 
sparkle  and  expression. 

Her  features  were  well- formed,  if  scarcely 
regular.  Her  mouth  was  wide  and  generous, 
her  nose  rather  short,  the  chin  square  and 
very  determined. 

In  character  she  was  somewhat  complex. 
She  was  a  creature  of  impulse,  wayward, 
headstrong,  and  inconsequent  as  a  butterfly. 
Warm-hearted  and  generous,  she  was  quick- 
tempered to  a  fault.  She  defied  any  person's 
authority,  save,  sometimes,  Lee's.  She  was 
painfully  outspoken,  fiercely  resentful  of  ridi- 
cule, and  passionately  fond  of  animals.  She 
was  fearless,  strong,  and  as  active  as  a  little 
wildcat,  contemptuous  of  cowardice  in  any 
form. 

Impatient  of  restraint,  she  had  gone  her 
own  sweet  way  since  babyhood.  She  was 
shrewd  and  far-seeing  as  well  as  intelligent. 
She  read  voraciously  at  such  times  as  she  was 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     17 

forced  to  remain  indoors;  but  she  was  never 
quite  happy  unless  she  was  in  the  open  air. 

She  possessed  a  collection  of  animals  which 
amounted  almost  to  a  menagerie,  and  which 
she  insisted  upon  taking  everywhere  with  her. 
She  shrugged  at  Mrs.  Dorice's  objections  and 
ignored  other  people's.  Her  affection  for  her 
creatures  was  intense  and  deep-rooted. 

She  had  acquired  a  nondescript,  shaggy 
beast,  of  such  mixed  ancestry  that  he  was 
beyond  description  from  the  half-drunken 
brute  who  had  owned  him,  for  the  price  of  his 
licence  and  a  pint  of  beer;  she  had  found  a 
ribby,  wistful-eyed  terrier  on  the  kerb  one 
night,  and  had  been  given  a  thoroughbred  and 
well-nigh  perfect  Pomeranian  by  a  youthful 
adorer  who  had  surreptitiously  purloined  it 
from  his  mother's  prized  kennel  upon  the 
morning  of  the  Dorices'  departure  from  that 
particular  neighborhood. 

They  formed  a  constant  bodyguard,  each 
equal  in  favour,  in  company  with  a  one-eyed 
cat  of  morose  demeanour,  and  a  canary  which 
had  been  sold  to  her  by  a  persuasive  and  evil- 
visaged  proprietor  of  a  dingy  birdshop  in  Lam- 
beth with  the  assurance  that  it  was  a  male 
bird  with  the  promise  of  a  glorious  voice,  and 


18     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

which  had  protested  against  this  misrepresen- 
tation by  laying  an  egg  almost  as  soon  as  she 
had  got  it  home. 

There  was  also  a  parrot  who  swore  pictur- 
esquely, a  white  rat,  and  a  mongoose.  Terry 
earnestly  hoped  in  course  of  time  to  add  a 
monkey  to  their  ranks,  while  she  found  the 
greatest  happiness  of  her  life  in  ministering 
to  their  various  wants. 

To-day  only  the  dogs  accompanied  her,  the 
mongrels  bright-eyed  and  wet,  the  Pom  fas- 
tidiously avoiding  their  moist  company  and 
shrilling  indignation  at  the  encroaching  sea. 

Terry  silenced  it  with  a  well-aimed,  playful 
blow  of  a  bare  heel,  and  grinned  at  Lee. 

"  He  's  nearly  in  hysterics,"  she  explained, 
meaning  the  Pom,  "  because  I  tried  to  make 
him  go  in  too.  Have  a  peppermint?  Where 
are  you  off  to,  and  what  are  you  looking  so 
glum  about?" 

She  investigated  a  sticky  bag  and  thrust 
another  black  ball  between  her  lips,  then  link- 
ing her  damp  arm  in  Lee's,  nodded  carelessly 
to  her  companions,  took  the  peppermint  out 
of  her  mouth  to  whistle  .the  dogs  piercingly, 
and  moved  lightly  on. 

"  Mother  been  nagging  you  again?"  she 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     19 

demanded,  when  they  were  alone;  and 
shrugged  as  the  other  replied  only  with  a  swift 
gesture.  She  continued  to  suck  noisily  until 
they  reached  the  old  fisherman  from  whom 
Lee  generally  hired  her  boat.  Then:  "  Going 
out?  Is  n't  it  rather  misty  to-day?" 

"  It 's  only  a  haze,"  Lee  returned.  But  the 
old  man  interrupted: 

"  Likely  it  '11  turn  to  fog  later,  miss.  If 
you  be  set  on  goin'  I  'd  not  stay  long — 
these  fogs  come  sudden,  and  last  a  fairish 
while.  Maybe  to-morrow  'd  be  a  better 
day—" 

"  But  I  shaix't  be  here  to-morrow!"  Lee 
told  him,  with  that  sudden  rare  smile  of 
hers.  "  And  I  want  to  go." 

"  Not  here  to-morrow?"  Terry  caught  up 
the  words  shrilly.  Her  eyes  shadowed  with  a 
faint  apprehension. 

Lee,  watching  the  old  man  preparing  the 
tubby  little  boat,  explained.  The  younger  girl 
made  a  sharp  gesture. 

"How  perfectly  rotten!"  she  exclaimed. 
"  I  '11  miss  you  disgustingly!" 

Lee  laughed.  She  was  quite  aware  of 
Terry's  affection  for  her,  and  returned  it.  The 
girl  was  lovable,  for  all  her  faults,  and  when 


20     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

she  gave  her  liking  she  gave  it  in  full  measure. 
Lee  had  a  certain  amount  of  influence  over 
her,  which  Terry  would  not,  for  the  world, 
have  admitted.  She  valued  her  opinion  as  she 
valued  the  opinion  of  no  one  else,  and  hers 
was  the  only  real  companionship  Lee  had 
known  since  her  father's  death. 

"  Mother  's  a  perfect  rotter!"  Terry  went 
on,  having  paused  to  masticate  hastily  the 
remains  of  the  peppermint.  "  Oh  " — as  Lee 
made  a  movement — "  don't  tell  me!  You  're 
going  because  of  her — to  get  away  from  her 
and  her  grousings  for  a  bit!  /  know!" 

Lee  did  not  reply,  but  she  gave  the  hand 
Terry  had  dropped  on  her  arm  a  quick,  warm 
pressure.  Her  sympathy  was  comforting;  the 
hard  lines  of  Lee's  face  relaxed. 

"Where  're  you  going?"  Terry  went  on. 

Lee  answered,  moving  to  the  end  of  the 
jetty  and  preparing  to  step  into  the  boat: 

"  Patty  Clay's.  Only  for  a  fortnight.  I  '11 
join  you  in  town." 

"  Town?"  Terry's  glance  held  dismayed 
questioning.  "  Good  Lord!  Is  mother  going 
back  to  town  in  a  fortnight? — and  this  only 
the  beginning  of  September.  Oh,  she  's  too 
bad!  She  promised  to  stay  till  the  twenty- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     21 

ninth,  and  I  hate  town,  and  suburbs,  and  a  lot 
of  dreary  houses  and  poky  shops !  She — come 
back,  you  little  fool  " — this  admonishingly  to 
the  Pom  who  was  endeavouring  to  follow  Lee 
into  the  boat — "  knows  I  hate  it!" 

She  caught  the  Pom  up  by  the  scruff  of  its 
neck  and  held  it  to  her.  Her  eyes  were  flash- 
ing, her  cheeks  flushed. 

"  I  'd  like  to  slap  her  sometimes!  If 
she  does  go  back  to  town  I  Ve  a  jolly  good 
mind  to  get  into  long  frocks  and  drop  the  little 
girl  stunt  forthwith.  Lee — can't  I  come  row- 
ing with  you?" 

Lee  shook  her  head. 

"  Not  to-day,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  want  to 
listen  to  chatter,  or  to  talk — just  to  be  alone 
and  get  comfortably  tired.  I  'm  sorry." 

"  Don't  mensh.  I  understand,  my  dear. 
Only  don't  forget  the  time  and  pull  out  too 
far.  I  'm  going  to  the  theatre  with  a  bunch 
of  Tim  Rawdon's  friends  to-night,  so  you  11 
probably  be  in  bed  and  asleep  when  I  come  in. 
But  I  '11  be  up  good  and  early  in  the  morn- 
ing so  as  to  see  you  off.  'Bye-ee!" 

She  stood  waving,  the  Pom  under  one  arm, 
until  Lee  and  the  boat  became  indistinct  in 
the  fain,t  mist,  then,  with  a  word  to  the  old 


22     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

boatman,  started  running  back  over  the  sand, 
concocting,  as  she  went,  various  means  of 
impressing,  forcibly,  her  disapproval  upon 
Mrs.  Dorice. 

Lee,  pulling  slowly  seawards,  glanced  about 
her  like  one  uncertain  of  quite  which  direction 
to  take.  Then,  over  her  shoulder,  she  caught 
sight  again  of  the  vague,  uneven  shape  which 
she  had  been  watching  from  the  windows  of 
her  stepmother's  room,  and  a  sudden  gleam  of 
determination  came  into  her  eyes. 

She  knew  the  shape  to  be  that  of  an  island, 
some  little  distance  out  from  the  mainland, 
and,  even  on  a  clear  day,  not  near  enough  to 
be  plain  to  the  view.  It  was  called  Ruff's 
Island,  and  once  had  been  the  site  of  a  light- 
house, now  nothing  but  a  mass  of  ruins. 
There  were  some  well-known  and  dangerous 
rocks  in  its  immediate  vicinity,  and  while  it 
was  possible  to  approach  it,  few  ever  went 
near  it.  It  was  bleak,  and  lonely,  and  rather 
sinister-looking,  and  since  the  days  before  the 
lighthouse  had  fallen  to  ruin  there  was  no 
record  of  any  on,e  having  been  tempted  to 
explore  it. 

Terry  had  first  put  the  wish  to  do  so  into 
Lee's  mind.  Terry  was  an  adventurous  spirit, 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     23 

with  a  vivid  imagination.  She  had  frequently 
voiced  her  conviction  that  the  ruins  would  be 
well  worth  investigating;  and  to-day  Lee  was 
conscious  of  a  desire  for  something  out  of  the 
ordinary  to  distract  her  attention. 

She  began  to  pull  more  strongly,  and  in  a 
little  while  could  see  the  outline  of  the  island 
and  the  forlorn  pile  of  ruins  quite  plainly.  She 
found  the  approach  fully  as  difficult  as  it  was 
said  to  be,  and  it  was  only  by  a  skilful  ma- 
noeuvring of  her  little  boat  among  the  jagged 
rocks  that  she  was  finally  able  to  effect  a 
landing. 

But  she  managed  it  at  last,  and,  securing  the 
boat  as  best  she  could,  she  began  clambering 
over  the  rocks.  The  air  was  mellow;  high 
above,  faintly  red  through  the  mist,  the  sun 
glowered,  and  the  chill  of  evening  was  still 
absent. 

The  island  was  bigger  than  she  had  imag- 
ined, and,  farther  up  from  the  sea,  the  ground 
was  sandy  and  easier  to  walk  on.  She  went  on, 
her  attention  absorbed  by  shells  and  weeds, 
until  a  glance  at  her  wrist-watch  told  her  it 
was  nearly  five.  Then  she  turned  with  the 
intention  of  going  back. 

She  could  see  the  crumbled  ruins  of  the 


24     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

lighthouse,  and,  among  the  rocks  below  it, 
her  little  boat.  The  next  instant,  bewilder- 
ingly  and  completely,  both  were  obliterated. 
There  were  no  longer  any  rocks,  any  ruins,  or 
any  sea.  Unexpectedly,  dankly,  like  a  thick, 
impenetrable  blanket,  the  dense  sea-fog  was 
wrapping  the  whole  island. 


CHAPTER  III 

IT  did  not  occur  to  Lee  at  once  that,  not  only 
was  she  cut  off  from  the  mainland,  but  com- 
pletely lost.  A  moment  before  she  had  been 
within  not  so  many  yards  of  the  ruined  light- 
house, and  quite  near  to  the  rocks  and  her 
boat.  Now  it  was  as  if  both  had  been  wiped 
off  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  she  was  alone. 

She  stood  for  a  seconjd  or  two  quite  still, 
bewildered,  dismayed.  Then  she  began  to 
stumble  and  grope  her  way  forward.  The 
ruins  had  been  directly  in  front  of  her,  and  she 
faced  in  what  she  believed  to  be  their 
direction.  But  a  sudden,  slip  made  her  realise 
that  she  had  left  the  sandier  ground,  and  was 
almost  upon  the  rocky  foreshore  again. 

Recovering  herself  she  stood,  breathing  a 
little  quickly,  and  trying  to  pierce  the  fog  for 
some  faint  glimpse  of  any  landmark  that 
would  give  her  her  bearings.  But  all  she 
could  see  was  the  thick  spirals  of  mist  in  her 
immediate  vicinity,  wreathing  about  her  like 
the  menacing  tentacles  of  some  huge,  intan- 
gible monster  of  the  sea. 


26    THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Her  dismay  returned.  She  dared  not  move 
either  one  way  or  the  other.  She  was  con- 
scious of  feeling  suddenly  very  cold;  in  spite 
of  her  thick  wool  sports  coat  the  damp  mist 
seemed  to  penetrate  to  her  skin,  and  she 
began  to  shiver. 

Gradually  it  was  dawning  upon  her  that 
her  situation  was  desperate.  There  was  no 
hope  of  making  herself  heard  however  loudly 
she  might  call.  The  island  was  deserted,  and 
dangerous,  and  very  far  from  the  mainland. 
Nor  was  it  likely  that  she  would  be  missed, 
at  any  rate  for  some  considerable  time,  unless, 
perhaps,  by  the  fisherman  from  whom  she  had 
hired  the  boat. 

And  it  was  more  than  likely  that  he  would 
conclude  she  had  rowed  along  the  coast,  and 
had  pulled  inshore  as  soon  as  she  had  realised 
the  fog  was  creeping  upon  her.  Certainly  he 
would  never  imagine  that,  upon  such  a  day 
as  this,  she  had  been  mad  enough  to  row  to 
Ruff's  Island. 

Quite  suddenly  she  was  aware  that  her  lips 
were  trembling,  and  bit  them  fiercely  to  still 
them.  Lee  was  no  coward,  but  the  prospect 
of  remaining  in  this  one  spot,  powerless  to 
make  any  attempt  to  find  shelter,  waiting 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     27 

shivering  and  sodden  by  the  fog  for  the  day 
to  come,  was  appalling. 

She  felt  smothered,  choked  by  the  heavy 
atmosphere,  breathless.  With  each  passing 
moment  she  was  beginning  to  be  more  and 
more  frightened.  The  thick  silence  oppressed 
her,  made  her  know  for  the  first  time  the  real 
meaning  of  loneliness. 

Perhaps  for  five  minutes  she  stood  thus,  her 
hands  pressed  hard  against  her  breast,  her 
breath  held,  eyes  straining  into  the  vapour. 
Then,  so  involuntarily  that  the  sound  of  her 
own  voice  scared  and  startled  her,  she  gave 
vent  to  a  long,  shrill,  rather  tremulous  call. 

Not  that  she  had  the  faintest  hope  of  mak- 
ing any  one  hear;  only  the  silence  was  already 
becoming  intolerable.  The  fog  seemed  to 
beat  her  voice  back  upon  her,  but  she  uttered 
the  cry  again — and  then  stood  suddenly  tense 
and  very  still. 

For  an  instant,  it  seemed  to  her,  another 
sound  followed  upon  it,  indistinct,  scarcely 
audible  above  the  monotonous  sucking  sound 
of  the  waves  among  the  rocks.  With  a  quick 
hope  leaping  up  in  her  heart  she  called  a  third 
time,  less  quaveringly  now. 

This  time  there  was  no  doubt  about  the 


28     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

answering  sound.  It  was  a  voice,  a  deep 
voice,  still  muffled  and  distant,  and  Lee  caught 
a  half-sobbing  breath  of  relief.  She  pitched 
her  own  voice  now  to  a  piercing  "  Coo-ee!" 
This  time  there  was  no  reply,  and  she  waited 
anxiously. 

Then: 

"Hallo-ee!"  Lee  started  and  turned  her 
head.  The  shout  had  sounded  just  behind 
her,  yet  she  could  see  no  one.  "  Hallo,  I  say! 
Where  are  you?  Keep  calling,  will  you — as 
loud  as  possible!" 

The  tone  was  at  once  cheerful  and  authori- 
tative. It  brought  comfort  with  it,  and  relief. 
Lee  obeyed,  facing  towards  the  unseen  speaker. 
Then  with  an  unexpectedness  that  made  her 
gasp  he  loomed  up  directly  in  front  of  her;  a 
hand  gripped  her  arm. 

"  Good!"  its  owner  declared  with  satisfac- 
tion. "  I  did  n't  hope  to  get  to  you  so  soon — 
you  must  have  been  nearer  the  lighthouse 
than  I  thought.  Don't  bother  to  talk — yet. 
Just  grab  hold  of  my  arm  and  hang  on.  The 
ruins  are  really  quite  close!" 

Lee  laughed  a  little  hysterically.  Not  until 
this  moment  had  she  guessed  how  desperate 
had  been  her  plight;  the  reaction  from  an 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     29 

increasing  an,d  overwhelming  dread  to  relief 
and  a  sense  of  security  was  unnerving.  She 
clung  with  a  desperate  determination  to  her 
rescuer's  arm,  trying  not  very  effectually  to 
steady  her  voice  as  she  answered  him. 

"  I  know.  I  saw  them  quite  near  to  me 
when  the  fog  suddenly  swept  over  everything 
— but  unless  you  Ve  got  very  remarkable 
eyesight  or  a  unique  sense  of  direction,  I  don't 
know  how  you  're  going  to  find  them." 

She  spoke  in  jerks,  breathlessly.  The  man 
peered  at  her  for  a  minute  through  the  fog 
wreaths,  then  laughed,  boyishly,  reassuringly. 

"  Got  a  rope  tied  to  the  door,  and  round 
my  waist!"  he  explained.  "Sense  of  direc- 
tion is  of  no  use  in  a  fog  like  this — nor  is  eye- 
sight. What  in  the  name  of  all  that 's  sensible 
made  you  come  out  here  on  such  a  day?" 

Lee  laughed  again.  She  was  stumbling 
along  beside  him,  keeping  fast  hold  of  his  arm 
with  both  hands. 

"  I  did  n't  guess  there  'd  be  a  real  fog  till 
night — and  I  did  n't  really  mean  to  land  at 
first.  Not  but  what  " — with  a  little  shudder 
— "  I  'm  glad  I  did !  To  be  adrift  at  sea  in  an 
open  boat  now  would — would  be  ghastly!" 

She  spoke  through  chattering  teeth  and 


30     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

blue  lips.  On  no  winter's  day  had  she  ever 
felt  so  cold.  And  then,  before  he  could  reply, 
a  breath  of  hot  air  touched  her  face,  a  light 
showed  dimly  directly  in  front  of  her.  She 
saw  an  iron-clamped  wooden  door,  with  a 
rusty  ring  of  a  handle  to  which  was  attached 
a  rope,  standing  ajar  before  her.  Beyond  the 
narrow  opening  was  a  glow  of  grateful 
warmth  and  light — the  sound  of  snapping 
twigs  and  crackling  logs.  Then  a  firm  hand 
was  on  her  shoulder,  beneath  its  pressure  she 
passed  a  shade  uncertainly  across  the  thresh- 
old as  the  big  door  swung  wider;  then  the 
latch  clicked,  and  in  a  moment  the  chill  world 
without  was  shut  away  from  them. 

With  a  sigh  that  was  half  a  sob  Lee  stood 
blinking  dazedly  in  the  centre  of  the  queer, 
rough  room,  conscious  only  at  the  moment  of 
the  mellow  embrace  of  the  big  fire.  Then  her 
glance  went  to  the  man. 

Unusually  big  and  broad  he  looked  in  his 
heavy,  dripping  oilskins,  seeming  to  fill  the 
little  room.  He  was  not  looking  at  her,  but 
busily  unfastening  the  rope  from  about  his 
waist.  This  accomplished,  he  raised  his  head. 

His  glance  flashed  over  her — a  keen,  pierc- 
ing, blue  glance  that  made  her  flush  a  little, 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     31 

while  it  seemed  to  note  every  detail  of  her 
woe-begone  appearance. 

"  You  must  be  drenched  through!"  he  com- 
mented. Then  he  jerked  his  head  towards  a 
gaudy,  heavy,  many-coloured  blanket  slung  on 
a  rope  across  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  Js  rather  primitive  accommo- 
dation," he  said,  "  but  it  's  better  than 
nothing.  And  you  don't  want  to  lose  any  time 
about  getting  out  of  those  wet  things  if  you 
hope  to  avoid  pneumonia.  There  's  a  wooden 
box  with  my  kit — such  as  it  is — in  there.  You 
'11  find  pyjamas  and  a  bathrobe,  and  some 
rough  towels.  You  '11  feel  better  when  you  Ve 
had  a  rub-down;  and  I  '11  have  some  hot 
tea  all  ready  in  five  minutes." 

He  turned  his  back  on  her  and  began  to 
divest  himself  of  his  oilskins. 

For  just  an  instant  Lee  hesitated;  then 
with  a  murmured  word  of  thanks  she  crossed 
the  room  and  passed  behind  the  heavy 
blanket. 

She  felt  a  little  dazed  now.  The  whole 
thing  was  so  unexpected,  unreal,  unusual.  If 
she  had  sought  distraction  from  her  thoughts 
in  setting  out  upon  her  voyage  this  afternoon, 
she  had  certainly  found  it. 


32     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

This  was  decidedly  an  adventure,  and  a 
little  pink  glow  crept  into  her  pale  cheeks  as 
she  hurriedly  divested  herself  of  her  wet 
things  and  rummaged  in  the  plain  deal  box 
that  stood,  with  a  candle  upon  it,  beside  a 
narrow  camp  bed. 

The  colour  deepened  as,  having  arrayed 
herself,  she  surveyed  the  result  in  the  small, 
cheap  square  of  mirror  on  one  of  the  rickety 
walls.  She  presented  an  unusual  and  uncon- 
ventional picture,  the  big  striped  bathrobe 
wrapped  closely  round  her  over  a  suit  of  py- 
jamas, and  gathered  at  the  waist  with  a  long 
cord. 

She  had  rubbed  her  hair  hastily  dry,  and 
fastened  it  up  anyhow  at  the  back  of  her  neck 
with  pins.  Its  smooth,  sleek  perfection  of 
outline  was  gone,  it  was  rough  and  untidy,  but 
it  was  by  no  means  unbecoming.  Her  eyes 
widened  as  she  looked  at  herself.  Vaguely 
she  felt  that  she,  too,  had  changed — like  one 
who  has  stepped  without  warning  out  of  the 
everyday  world  into  another,  fantastic,  more 
than  a  little  unreal. 

It  was  difficult  to  believe  that  she  was  the 
same  Lee  Dorice  who  had  passed  from  the 
rather  overscented  and  untidy  comfort  of  her 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     33 

stepmother's  room  not  much  more  than  an 
hour  and  a  half  ago. 

Fear  and  excitement  had  made  her  eyes 
look  almost  black;  the  unconventionality  of 
the  situation,  and  her  apparel,  deepened  the 
rare  rose  in  her  cheeks.  The  tumble  of  night- 
dark  hair  looked  like  a  dusky  halo  about  her 
face. 

But  after  a  moment  she  turned,  and,  push- 
ing aside  the  guarding  blanket,  stepped 
quietly  into  the  glow  of  firelight  again.  There 
was  nothing  of  hesitancy  in  her  manner  now. 
She  moved  with  her  customary  supple  grace 
and  half-unconscious  dignity,  despite  the  fact 
that  her  feet  were  bare. 

The  man  was  bending  over  the  stove.  He 
glanced  back  over  his  shoulder,  gave  her  one 
penetrating,  steady  glance,  then  smiled  at  her. 
It  was  a  quick,  boyish,  pleasant  smile,  and 
she  found  herself  responding  to  it  imme- 
diately. 

"  Find  everything  you  wanted?"  he  asked, 
his  attention  on  a  big  brown  teapot,  and  Lee 
nodded. 

"  I  'm  very  comfortable,  and  beginning  to 
feel  deliciously  warm.  Only  I  'm  not  quite 
sure  yet  if  I  'm  awake  or  dreaming." 


34     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"You  're  awake  all  right  1"  He  set  back 
the  kettle  and  carried  the  steaming  pot  to  the 
table.  "  You  '11  realise  it  when  you  begin  to 
eat.  I  hope  you  're  hungry,  because  I  gener- 
ally combine  tea  and  supper  when  I  'm  leading 
the  simple  life.  It  saves  bothering  about  too 
many  meals." 

"  I  'm  ravenous!"  Lee  assured  him,  and, 
rising,  came  to  the  table  at  his  quick  gesture 
of  invitation. 

She  had  recovered  her  poise  and  her  assur- 
ance, and  moved  naturally,  betraying  no  self- 
consciousness  or  awkwardness.  She  might 
have  been  presiding  at  the  tea-table  in  the 
drawing-room  at  home,  and  a  flicker  of  inter- 
est and  appreciation  touched  the  man's  eyes. 

He  had  placed  her  before  the  cups,  and 
took  the  seat  at  her  side.  The  meal  he  had 
prepared  was  plain,  but  it  was  well  cooked 
and  appetising — thick  rashers  of  rather  fat 
bacon,  fried  eggs,  with  butter  and  honey  and 
bread  to  follow. 

They  ate,  both  of  them,  hungrily  and  in 
silence,  absorbed  in  the  important  matter  of 
satisfying  their  appetites.  Finally,  with  a  long 
sigh,  Lee  pushed  her  cup  away  with  the  uncon- 
scious gesture  of  a  child  replete  with  good 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     35 

things,  and  leaned  back.  Across  the  big 
brown  teapot  their  eyes  met,  and  suddenly 
they  both  laughed. 

It  was  a  merry,  spontaneous  sound  that 
made  them,  somehow,  friends  at  once.  The 
man  got  up,  found  a  tin  of  cigarettes  and  an 
old  pipe  and  came  back  to  the  table  with 
them. 

For  the  first  time,  discreetly,  Lee  inspected 
him  closely.  He  was  not  nearly  so  big  as  he 
had  at  first  appeared  in  his  heavy  oilskins; 
indeed  he  was  thin  to  gauntness,  and  only  a 
little  above  the  average  height.  But  he  was 
muscular  and  well  built,  and  he  moved  with- 
out clumsiness. 

His  hair  had  been  cropped  uncompromis- 
ingly close,  but  at  the  temples  it  showed  a 
tendency  to  curl,  and  was  a  crisp,  fair  brown. 

He  was  deeply  weather-tanned,  but  he  had 
little  colour,  and  his  cheeks  were  very  hollow. 
The  eyes  looking  out  from  thin,  fair  brows 
and  lashes  were  an  ordinary,  clear  blue,  and 
not  striking  except  when  he  was  roused  to 
interest  and  animation. 

His  features  were  clear-cut  and  well 
modelled;  there  was  strength  and  a  certain 
sweetness  in  the  sensitive  mouth;  the  square 


36     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

chin  spoke  of  determination  and  power.  On  the 
whole,  she  decided,  he  might  quite  easily  be 
described  as  good-looking,  if  not  remarkably 
so. 

She  watched  him  filling  his  pipe,  pressing 
the  tobacco  down  with  a  very  brown,  capable 
finger;  as  he  looked  up  she  smiled. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "  I  am  awfully 
curious.  I  never  knew  this  island  was  inhab- 
ited." 

He  looked  down  again  at  the  pipe,  still 
pressing  the  tobacco  carefully.  There  was 
the  faintest  line  of  a  frown  between  his  nar- 
row brows. 

"  It  was  n't,"  he  told  her  rather  curtly  it 
seemed  to  her,  "  until  I  discovered  it — and 
decided  to  play  Robinson  Crusoe."  - 

"  But  is  n't  it  rather  dull?" 

For  answer  he  waved  his  hand.  On  rough 
shelves  along  the  opposite  wall  there  were 
piles  of  books. 

"  One  can  never  be  dull  with  books — and 
the  sea!"  he  told  her,  and  she  nodded  in  a 
sudden,  swift  comprehension. 

There  was  a  short  pause;  then: 

"  But  I  did  n't  see  you  when,  I  landed,"  Lee 
said. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     37 

He  grinned  suddenly. 

"  I  was  alternately  playing  'possum,  watch- 
ing you  through  the  crack  of  the  door,  and 
endeavouring  to  douse  the  light  of  a  fire  I 
had  only  just  succeeded  in  coaxing  to  burn.  I 
was  afraid  you  'd  see  the  smoke.  I  assure 
you  your  intrusion  put  me  out  a  good  deal." 

Lee  lifted  her  head  quickly,  and  flushed. 
He  saw  it,  and  made  a  little  gesture. 

"  That  sounds  horribly  inhospitable,  does 
n't  it?  And  not  very  complimentary,  per- 
haps ;  but  one  so  seldom  finds  a  place  like  this, 
literally  isolated  from  mankind,  and  I  had 
horrid  visions  of  an  inquisitive  young  person 
poking  round  my  laboriously  constructed 
camp,  and  going  back  to  tell  excitedly  of  her 
discovery  of  a  modern  Robinson  Crusoe  on 
shunned  Ruff's  Island.  You  won't,  will  you?" 

His  voice  had  softened,  warmed  to  a  half- 
pleading,  coaxing  note.  He  added,  as  he  met 
her  puzzled  stare:  "  Give  me  away,  I  mean — 
tell  folks  I  'm  camping  here,  and  bring  the 
hordes  of  curious  civilisation  down  upon  me?" 

He  spoke  lightly,  but  there  was  an  under- 
lying seriousness  in  his  tone.  His  eyes  were 
upon  hers  rather  intently.  She  frowned 
slightly,  and  made  a  little  gesture. 


38     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  Of  course  I  won't,  if  you  don't  want  me 
to ! "  she  cried.  Her  eyes  were  a  trifle  puzzled. 

He  met  them  and  smiled  frankly. 

"Thanks  awfully!  Somehow  I  guessed 
you  would  n't  if  I  asked  you.  You  see,  I  'd 
hate  to  have  to  pack  up  traps  and  decamp  in 
a  hurry.  It  's  very  peaceful  here." 

"  But  " — Lee's  voice  was  astonished — 
"  why  ever  should  you?" 

She  broke  off.  Very  slowly  the  expression 
of  her  face  changed.  Suspicion  dawned 
behind  the  perplexity  of  her  gaze,  a  faint 
apprehension.  She  added,  quickly: 

"  You  don't  mean — you  're  not  hiding,  are 
you?" 

Her  companion's  pipe  had  gone  out.  He 
relighted  it  carefully.  In  the  glow  of  the  fire- 
light his  face  was  undisturbed;  his  eyes  were 
intent  upon  his  task.  He  took  a  couple  of 
leisurely  puffs  before  replying. 

"  I  suppose  that  is  about  the  size  of  it,"  he 
admitted  cheerfully.  "  One  is  apt  to  find  too 
much  publicity — too  much  of  the  limelight — 
a  little  trying  at  times." 

Lee  drew  a  long  breath.  She  flushed  again, 
and  the  suspicion  died  out  of  her  eyes.  She 
gave  a  quick  little  laugh. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     39 

"Oh!  I  see!"  she  cried.  "At  least,  I 
think  I  do.  You  're  rather  well  known? — a 
celebrity,  perhaps? — " 

She  hesitated.  The  man  shifted  slightly  in 
his  chair;  his  eyes  were  still  fixed  upon  his 
pipe-bowl.  For  the  merest  second  his  lip 
twitched. 

"  Well — yes.  Pretty  well  known.  I  dare 
say  I  might  even  claim  a  certain  amount  of — 
er — notoriety.  However  " — he  shot  a  sudden 
lightning,  searching  glance  at  her — "  it  is 
evidently  not  quite  so  far-reaching  as  I  had 
imagined.  You  don't  know  me." 

Lee  made  a  slight  gesture.  She  looked 
puzzled  again.  Her  clear  eyes  rested  on  him 
earnestly  for  a  minute,  then  she  shook  her 
head. 

"  No,"  she  said,  and  there  was  a  half-note 
of  apology  in  her  tone.  "  I  don't  know  you. 
But  then,  you  see,  I  never  glance  at  society 
journals,  and  very  seldom  look  at  newspapers. 
Sometimes  as  long  as  a  fortnight  passes  and  I 
don't  see  one.  I  'm  sorry — " 

The  man  got  up  quickly.  The  expression  of 
his  face  was  almost  of  relief.  He  laughed 
down  at  her,  suddenly,  gaily. 

"I  'm  not!"  he  asserted  with  emphasis. 


40     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  I  assure  you,  it  's  an  immense  pleasure  to 
find  that  one  is  just  an  ordinary,  everyday 
person  for  a  change.  I  don't  suppose  you  can 
understand  it — " 

"I  can't!"  Lee  interrupted  rather  drily. 
"  You  see,  I  'm  such  a  very  ordinary,  every- 
day person  myself — " 

This    time   it   was   he   who    interrupted, 

"Not  ordinary!"  he  said,  and  there  was 
a  sudden  something  in  his  voice,  in  his  brief, 
sweeping  glance  that  startled  her,  brought  a 
deeper  flush  to  her  usually  pale  face.  He  saw 
it  and  turned  away  immediately,  crossing  to 
the  door  and  pulling  it  open.  A  whirl  of 
smoke-like,  ice-coid  vapour  poured  in,  and  he 
banged  it  to  quickly  again. 

"No  chance  of  it  clearing  to-night!"  he 
announced;  and  fhen,  at  her  dismayed  excla- 
mation, "  I  'm  most  awfully  sorry.  But  there 
it  is.  I  '11  do  my  best  to  make  you  as  comfort- 
able as  I  can,  and  it  's  warm  and  dry  here. 
We  '11  just  have  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  job, 
and  wait  for  the  morning." 

"  But — "  Lee  was  on  her  feet  now,  a  vision 
of  a  scared  Terry,  an  hysterical  Mrs.  Dorice, 
and  a  shocked  and  scandalised  community 
assailing  her  mentally. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     41 

Perhaps  he  read  something  of  her  thought, 
for  his  lip  twisted  again,  half  cynically,  half 
humorously. 

"  There  's  really  nothing  to  worry  about," 
he  assured  her,  breaking  into  her  half-uttered 
sentence.  "  Honest,  I  'm  not  so  bad  as  my 
probable  reputation;  and  as  far  as  Mrs. 
Grundy's  cackle — well,  there  can't  be  any, 
can  there? — not  if  you  keep  your  promise  and 
don't  mention  there  's  an  inhabitant  on  this 
island." 

Lee  bit  her  lip,  then  dropped  back  into  her 
chair  with  an  exasperated  laugh.  There  was 
something  at  once  boyishly  disarming  and 
amiably  reassuring  about  him  as  he  stood 
before  her,  hands  thrust  into  his  pockets,  his 
fair  head  flung  back.  He  smiled  suddenly  as 
their  eyes  met,  and  she  found  it  gave  to  him 
an  unexpected,  sunny  charm  that  was  very 
pleasant. 

"  It  's  really  pretty  simple,  is  n't  it?"  he 
proceeded.  "  You  rowed  out  in  this  direction 
— got  caught  in  a  fog — and  sheltered  in  the 
ruins.  Straightforward  enough  story,  don't 
you  know — and  no  need  to  enlarge  upon  it. 
Meantime  " — again  he  smiled — "  we  '11  ignore 
the  awkwardness  of  the  situation  and  just  do 


42     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

our  best  to  amuse  each  other.  There  are 
heaps  of  things  to  do,  primitive  though  this 
little  old  shack  appears.  Cards — chess — 
books  and  music." 

He  indicated  a  gramophone  with  a  proudly 
proprietorial  wave  of  his  arm,  adding,  with  a 
grin: 

"  We  could  even  dance!" 

Lee  laughed  in  spite  of  her  annoyance. 
His  matter-of-factness  and  her  own  sound 
good  sense  did  much  towards  restoring  her 
ruffled  equanimity.  The  laugh  cleared  the 
air.  Her  host  nodded,  pulled  the  chairs  close 
to  the  fire,  and  smiled  down  at  her. 

"  Shall  we  talk  first?"  he  asked  almost 
eagerly,  and  Lee  laughed  again. 

Thereafter  neither  noticed  the  passing  of 
the  hours.  Lee  forgot  the  strangeness  of  her 
adventure,  the  grey  world  without,  the  aggra- 
vations of  the  earlier  day.  She  showed  an  ani- 
mation which  would  have  astonished  even 
Terry,  and  which  made  of  her  rather  elusive 
beauty  a  real  and  living  thing. 

They  flitted  from  one  subject  of  conver- 
sation to  another,  idly,  and  for  the  most  part 
good-humouredly,  though  once  or  twice  they 
found  themselves  entering  into  an  animated 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     43 

discussion  upon  some  book  or  picture,  which 
occasionally  ended  in  controversy. 

Lee  was  amused,  the  man  evidently  enjoy- 
ing himself  thoroughly.  Later,  when  he  had 
made  coffee  and  cut  some  thin  sandwiches, 
the  conversation  became  more  or  less  per- 
sonal again.  He  drew  Lee  out  more  than  she 
realised.  She  touched  briefly  upon  her  happy 
life  with  her  father  previous  to  his  marriage; 
she  spoke  of  her  loneliness  since,  the  impos- 
sibility of  her  position.  She  spoke  affection- 
ately of  Terry,  with  an  unconscious  coldness 
and  restraint  of  MrsL  Dorice.  She  forgot 
this  man  was  a  stranger,  only  felt  the  warmth 
of  his  sympathy.  She  fell  silent  for  some 
minutes;  then  stirred  as  he  asked  quietly: 

"  But  you  can't  go  on  like  this.  You  're 
wasting  your  years,  your  youth — hardening 
yourself.  You  '11  end  by  imprisoning  your 
soul,  shutting  up  all  that  's  best  within  you 
behind  bars,  and  growing  bitter!" 

He  spoke  quickly,  leaning  forward.  He 
was  oddly  in  earnest,  for  one  who  was  so  com- 
pletely a  stranger.  Lee  smiled. 

"  Surely  you  can  break  away?"  he  went  on, 
and  she  interrupted  with  a  sudden  hardness 
in  her  voice. 


44     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  I  made  up  my  mind  to,  to-day!  In  the 
onjy  way  I  know  how!" 

"  And  that  is?—" 

His  eyes  were  earnest,  questioning.  Lee 
met  them,  and  smiled  cynically. 

"  Marriage  with  the  first  eligible  and  really 
worth-having  man  who  offers  himself!" 

She  flushed  brightly  a  moment  after  she 
had  spoken  the  words,  and  bit  her  lip  fiercely. 
She  was  angry  with  herself  for  having  spoken 
so,  with  him  for  having  drawn  from  her  such 
a  confession.  He  stared  at  her  for  a  moment, 
then  got  up  quickly. 

"  You  could  n't  do  that!"  He  spoke  almost 
roughly.  There  was  angry  distress  in  his 
clear  eyes.  He  went  on  quickly,  rather  dis- 
connectedly: "  I  have  n't  seen  many  women 
— girls — like  you  for — for  quite  a  goofr  many 
years.  In  fact  I  have  n't  seen  much  of 
women  at  all.  And  I  don't  understand  'em. 
But  I  do  know  you  're  not  that  sort  of  girl." 

Lee's  chin  tilted.  She  was  still  angry.  She 
felt  suddenly  resentful.  Her  voice  had  com- 
pletely changed  when  she  spoke  again.  It 
was  chill,  no  longer  mellow. 

"  I  am,  all  the  same!"  she  retorted.  "  But 
it  's  scarcely  a  profitable  discussion,  is  it? 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     45 

Let  's  talk  of  something  else.  About  you.  I 
confess  I  'm  puzzled.  I  can't  place  your  pro- 
fession. You  know  an  awful  lot  about  books, 
but  I  don't  believe  you  write.  Yet — pic- 
tures—?" 

She  paused  with  wrinkled  brows.  He  was 
still  standing;  now  he  frowned,  as  if  the  sub- 
ject jarred.  But  he  answered  quietly: 

"I— act!" 

Something  in  his  tone  forbade  comment  or 
further  question.  They  drifted  into  imper- 
sonal talk  again;  but  once  or  twice,  looking 
at  him,  Lee  was  puzzled  afresh.  She  had 
imagined  herself  fairly  familiar  with  the  faces 
of  most  actors  of  the  day;  but  she  was  quite 
certain  this  man's  had  never  been  among 
those  she  had  seen.  Again,  uncannily,  he 
seemed  to  guess  her  perplexity,  for  he  broke 
off  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence  to  say: 

"  I  have  not  yet  acted  in  England."  And 
added,  so  slowly,  and  with  a  deliberation  so 
peculiar  that  she  looked  at  him  quickly.  "  I 
hope  to,  however — almost  immediately." 

And  then  again  he  changed  the  subject. 
Presently  he  rose  and  started  the  gramophone. 
He  stood  beside  it,  watching  the  girl.  Her 
slim  figure  was  relaxed  in  her  chair,  her  head 


46     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

thrown  back.  The  sleeve  of  the  bathrobe 
had  fallen  back,  leaving  her  arms  bare;  he 
could  see  the  soft  pulsing  of  her  upflung 
throat. 

Her  eyes  were  very  deep  and  very  dark; 
a  little  of  her  rare  colour  still  lingered  in  her 
cheeks,  and  her  brilliantly  red  lips  were  a 
trifle  apart.  She  was  unaware  of  it,  but  her 
hair  had  fallen  loose.  It  rippled  all  about 
her,  silken,  dense,  wonderful.  The  man 
caught  his  breath  oddly  as  he  looked  at  it, 
and  went  an  unconscious  step  nearer.  At 
the  movement  Lee  looked  up  and  met  his 
eyes.  They  were  aglow,  shining. 

They  held  hers  against  her  will;  without 
reason  her  heart  began  to  beat.  But  she  sat 
very  still,  bathed  in  the  firelight,  and  still 
the  languorous  tune  that  he  had  chosen 
throbbed  on.  ... 

It  was  only  for  a  minute,  that  meeting  of 
their  glances.  But  to  each  it  seemed  many. 
A  spell  seemed  to  be  upon  them — neither 
moved. 

Then  a  log  dropped,  and  Lee  sprang  to 
her  feet.  "  It  's — it  's  unconscionably  late!" 
she  said  rather  stammeringly.  "And  I  'm 
dead  tired— I  think  I  '11  say  '  Good-night '!" 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     47 

His  glance  dropped  to  her  lips.  She  was 
standing  with  her  hand  on  the  curtaining 
blanket,  her  hair  all  about  her.  Again,  invol- 
untarily, the  man  took  a  step  forward. 

"  Good-night!"  he  echoed.  His  eyes  were 
still  upon  her  mouth,  and  she  blushed  sud- 
denly, flamingly,  as  though  the  glance  had 
been  a  caress.  The  next  moment  she  was  gone. 

For  several  minutes  he  did  not  move.  Then 
the  music  jarred  to  a  stop.  He  shut  the 
gramophone  and  came  slowly  back  halfway 
to  the  curtain. 

"  I  want  you,"  he  said  abruptly,  "  to  tell 
me  something — quite  truly.  Did  you  mean 
what  you  said  just  now — about  marrying?" 

There  was  an  infinitesimal  pause.  There 
was  a  look  in  Lee's  eyes  as  she  heard  him 
that  was  bewildered,  and  a  shade  scared. 
Then  she  answered  matter-of-factly,  on  an 
unconcealed  yawn. 

"  What  a  stupid  question!  Of  course  I 
did!  Good-night!" 

"Good-night!"  The  man  turned  away 
slowly.  But  there  was  no  hint  of  disappoint- 
ment in  his  tone,  and  after  a  minute,  very 
gently,  he  began  to  smile. 


48     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

The  morning  dawned  clear  as  though  fog 
had  never  been.  Lee,  coming  into  the  outer 
room  at  breakfast-time,  found  her  host  flour- 
ishing a  frying-pan  over  the  still  brilliant  fire. 
He  smiled  upon  her  genially. 

"  Fried  eggs  and  bacon  again,"  he  apolo- 
gised. "  But  you  won't  mind  if  you  're  as 
hungry  as  I  am." 

Lee  glanced  at  him  quickly,  a  vague  recol- 
lection of  something  disturbing  the  night 
before  in  her  mind.  She  sat  down  relieved. 
He  placed  her  breakfast  before  her  with 
another  flourish,  and  kept  up  a  lively  chatter 
all  through  the  meal. 

Later  he  helped  her  into  her  boat,  and, 
pushing  it  out  from  the  rocks,  ran  out  into  the 
water  knee-high.  Then  he  stood,  a  hand  on 
either  side  of  the  little  craft,  holding  it 
steady.  Lee  smiled  at  him  under  her  lashes. 

"  You  Ve  been  very  kind,"  she  said.  "  I 
really  enjoyed  my  adventure.  Perhaps — 
some  day — we  shall  meet  again." 

"  Sure!"  He  spoke  with  a  conviction  that 
took  her  aback.  He  was  watching  her  lips 
and  trying  not  to  let  her  see  it.  His  lids  were 
lowered,  and  an  odd  light  came  and  went 
beneath  them.  Suddenly  he  leaned  forward. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     49 

Before  Lee  could  stir,  his  mouth  was  pressed 
fiercely,  eagerly  upon  hers.  As,  outraged, 
furious,  she  struggled  free,  he  stood  upright 
and  pushed  the  boat  out  to  sea. 

"  Sorry!"  he  said,  just  a  shade  breathlessly. 
— "  I  've  no  excuse  to  offer — except  that  I 
have  fallen  in  love — already!" 


CHAPTER  IV 

LEE  made  her  explanations  of  what  happened 
curtly  and  briefly,  ignoring  alike  Terry's  tear- 
ful relief  and  Mrs.  Dorice's  reproaches.  She 
caught  an  earlier  train  to  town  than  she  had 
at  first  intended,  and  was  almost  feverishly 
gay  when  she  met  Patty  Clay. 

At  that  lady's  charming  Surrey  home  she 
did  her  utmost  to  eradicate  all  recollection  of 
Ruff's  Island,  her  adventure,  her  night  there, 
and  her  rescuer's  face  completely  and  abso- 
lutely from  her  mind.  To  this  end  she 
unbent  as  she  had  never  before  unbent,  she 
was  animated — brilliant — restless.  She  en- 
snared and  enchained,  flirted  and  laughed 
until  Patty  stared. 

But  she  found  the  task  she  had  set  herself 
no  easy  one.  The  memory  of  the  caress  of 
the  man's  eyes,  as  much  as  that  of  his  lips, 
burned  her.  She  was  furious  with  herself  and 
a  little  frightened. 

That  kiss  was  the  first  she  had  ever  known. 
Her  throat  throbbed  whenever  she  thought  of 
it,  and  though  she  would  not  admit  it,  beneath 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     51 

her  rage  there  was  an  odd,  tingling  sweet- 
ness. 

She  knew  a  fierce  self-scorn  for  her  folly — 
that  folly  that  allowed  her  to  linger,  even 
against  her  will,  on  the  memory.  But  she 
knew  too  that  the  kiss  had  robbed  her  of 
something,  while  it  had  given  her  something, 
and  that  she  would  never  be  the  same  again. 

A  letter  from  Terry  came  at  the  end  of  the 
first  week.  It  was  brief  and  characteristic. 

DARLING, 

We  are  back  in  town — of  course.  Some  one 
mother  knew  had  a  flat  to  let  furnished,  cheap, 
and  she  took  it  for  six  months.  It  's  very  small, 
all  white  enamel,  pink  roses,  and  smelling  of  mice. 
Buster  had  a  glorious  kill  the  first  night  and  ate 
so  many  he  was  sick.  I  hate  it — being  here,  I 
mean. 

We  Ve  only  been  here  three  days,  but  mother 
has,  I  feel  sure,  "  got  off  "  again!  I  know  you 
hate  the  expression,  but  it  's  the  only  way  to  de- 
scribe it.  She  met  him — the  victim — at  some- 
body's reception,  and  as  he  's  literally  rolling  in 
money  she  appropriated  him  at  once.  Not  that 
he  seemed  averse.  I  never  saw  any  one  fall  for 
mother  so  quickly  before.  He  's  called  twice,  and 
is  dining  to-night  and  taking  us — us,  my  dear — to 
a  theatre.  His  name  's  Smithers,  and  he  's  quite 


52     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

old.  He  stoops,  and  walks  with  a  cane,  and  his 
hand  shakes  when  he  lights  a  cigarette  or  cuts 
up  his  food.  He  told  mother  he  's  sixty-five,  but 
I  say  nearer  seventy.  He  is  really  quite  decent, 
though,  and  has  a  scrumptious  house !  Mother  is 
most  elated,  of  course,  and  "  my  little  girl's  "  me 
until  I  feel  like  cussing!  I  do  hope  you  won't 
stay  much  longer — it  's  a  perfect  scream. 

He  's  promised  me  a  red  setter!  He  really 
is  n't  a  bad  sort.  Mother  was  quite  excited  to- 
day because  some  one  told  her  he  's  practically  a 
millionaire.  It  appears  he  made  all  his  money 
out  in  Rio,  or  somewhere  like  that — anyway,  he  's 
piles  of  it.  Guess  it  'd  be  a  good  thing  for  the 
house  of  Dorice  if  he  did  come  up  to  the  scratch. 
And  I  think  he  will.  Otherwise  he  would  n't  hang 
round  as  he  does.  'Scuse  the  slang,  I  'm  bored 
stiff.  Come  back  soon.  You  did  n't  get  a  chill 
on  that  awful  island,  did  you? 

Heaps  of  love 

TERRY 

P.S. — Benny  has  fleas. 


Lee  shrugged,  laughed,  and  put  the  letter 
away.  She  did  not  want  to  go  home,  but  she 
knew  she  must,  and  she  set  to  work  feverishly 
to  make  the  most  of  her  second  week. 

She  danced,  rode,  fished,  and  golfed,  and 
when  Patty  saw  her  into  the  train  at  the  end 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     53 

of  her  visit  she  looked  worn  out.  But  she  had 
not  succeeded  in  forgetting  Ruff's  Island. 

For  half  her  journey  she  sat  thinking,  while 
her  pulses  tingled  afresh  and  her  throat  con- 
tracted. 

Once  she  got  up  and  stared  at  herself  in  the 
strip  of  glass  flanked  by  highly  coloured  pic- 
tures of  Haslemere. 

"  I  hate  him!  "  she  said,  aloud,  and  vi- 
ciously. "  I  hate — hate — hate  him!  " 

And  then  blushed  as  she  had  blushed  that 
night  when  he  had  looked  at  her  lips.  She  sat 
down  hastily,  wondering,  in  spite  of  her  anger, 
if  she  had  named  the  right  emotion. 

At  one  of  the  stations  nearing  the  end  of 
her  journey  a  newsboy  ran  past.  On  the 
poster  in  front  of  him  were  two  glaring  black 
lines. 

CARSON  MURDER 
CARSON  BREAKS  JAIL 

Lee  stretched  out  a  hand  and  idly  opened 
the  paper  the  boy  thrust  into  it.  As  idly  she 
read  the  column  on  the  first  page. 

Denham  Carson,  who  was  tried  for  the  mur- 
der of  his  wife  at  her  apartments  in  New  York 


54     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

five  years  ago,  escaped  from  prison,  we  are 
informed,  some  weeks  ago.  So  far  no  trace  has 
been  found  of  him.  It  is  now  believed  that  he 
may  have  managed  to  get  to  England.  We  pub- 
lish a  photograph  below.  Carson  is  a  millionaire, 
and  has  many  influential  and  wealthy  frie — 

Lee's  eyes  drifted  from  the  printed  words 
to  the  photograph  below.  She  did  not  move, 
but  after  a  moment  the  paper  slipped  from  her 
hand,  and  she  leaned  back  in  her  corner,  her 
handkerchief  caught  up  against  her  lips. 

From  the  floor  the  pictured  face  still  smiled 
at  her.  It  was  the  same  face  that  had  smiled 
at  her,  boyishly,  genially,  over  a  smoking  fry- 
ing-pan of  eggs  and  bacon  in  the  lighthouse 
ruins  on  Ruff's  Island! 

For  the  remainder  of  the  journey  Lee  sat 
quite  motionless,  staring  straight  in  front  of 
her.  She  was  shocked  beyond  expression; 
stunned.  There  was  not  one  moment's  doubt 
in  her  mind  that  the  man  of  Ruff's  Island  and 
he  whose  portrait  lay  before  her  were  one  and 
the  same. 

There  could  be  no  mistake — no  chance 
likeness  here.  The  same  sensitive,  half-hu- 
morous mouth;  the  same  level,  lazy  eyes, 
mildly  amiable,  boyishly  serene.  The  only 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     55 

difference  was  that  in  the  portrait  the  hair 
was  not  so  closely  cropped.  .  .  . 

Lee  shuddered  suddenly,  and  her  pupils 
dilated.  She  understood  now — understood  so 
much!  That  unusually  short  hair — the  queer 
choice  of  a  dwelling,  surely  unnatural  under 
ordinary  circumstances  hi  a  man  of  his  tem- 
perament— the  open  confession  that  her  ar- 
rival had  disturbed  him;  his  appeal,  half  jest- 
ing, to  her  not  to  "  give  him  away." 

She  moistened  her  lips;  then  rubbed  her 
handkerchief  across  them  again.  He  had  been 
clever.  Oh,  yes;  he  had  been  very  clever! 
His  whole  manner  had  been  so  natural,  so 
frank.  She  herself  had  thrust  the  role  of  a 
celebrity,  modestly  seeking  immunity  from 
the  occasionally  embarrassing  attentions  of 
an  admiring  public,  upon  him.  His  acceptance 
of  it  had  been  inimitable.  No  one  could  have 
harboured  suspicion  in  the  face  of  it. 

She  remembered  his  shrugging  reference  to 
"  the  limelight,"  his  lightning  glance  when  he 
had  suggested  she  had  no  idea  of  his  identity ; 
his  half-laughing,  but  evidently  genuine  assur- 
ance that  he  was  glad  of  it.  She  remembered 
half  a  dozen  other  things  which  had  been 
without  significance  before,  and  bit  her  lip 
till  the  blood  came. 


56     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Presently  she  stooped  stiffly  and  recovered 
the  newspaper.  She  avoided  glancing  again  at 
the  photograph,  but  read  the  paragraph  above 
it  with  a  sort  of  shrinking  deliberation. 

Denham  Carson,  who  was  tried  for  the  mur- 
der of  his  wife  at  her  apartments  in  New  York 
five  years  ago,  escaped  from  prison,  we  are 
informed,  some  weeks  ago.  So  far  no  trace  has 
been  found  of  him.  It  is  now  believed  that  he 
may  have  managed  to  get  to  England.  We  pub- 
lish a  photograph  below.  Carson  is  a  millionaire 
and  has  many  influential  and  wealthy  friends,  all 
of  whom  we  learn  believe  in  his  innocence,  or  are 
fully  in  sympathy  with  him. 

The  case  roused  considerable  interest  and 
some  of  the  scenes  at  the  trial  were  almost  unprec- 
edented. Denham  Carson  from  a  boy  has 
always  been  a  favourite,  and  his  ill-advised  mar- 
riage to  a  girl  of  far  lower  station  than  his  own 
— a  very  pretty  model,  Chrissie  Grey,  whom  he 
met  at  a  friend's  studio — caused  great  consterna- 
tion among  his  own  people  and  his  intimates.  It 
transpired  at  the  trial  that  the  marriage  had  not 
been  one  of  affection,  at  any  rate  on  Denham 
Carson's  side.  His  own  reluctant  evidence  at 
his  trial  went  to  show  that  while  he  had  admired 
her  and  been  foolishly  attentive,  he  had  meant 
nothing  more;  but  the  girl  was  clever,  turned 
those  attentions  to  account,  contrived  to  get 
them  talked  about  very  considerably,  and 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     57 

finally  practically  forced  young  Denham  to  marry 
her.  From  the  first  it  was  not  a  happy  union. 
Mrs.  Carson,  though  she  had  the  wealth  and 
luxury  for  which  she  had  yearned,  was  not 
received  well  by  Carson's  friends,  and  found 
herself  painfully  out  of  her  element.  She  soon 
tired  and  took  to  frequenting  her  old  haunts  anew. 
Naturally  Denham  Carson  objected — to  this,  and 
to  the  people  whom  she  made  her  intimates.  The 
result  was  a  separation,  and  Mrs.  Carson  took  an 
expensive  apartment  in  the  heart  of  New  York. 
She  continued  to  get  herself  talked  about,  disre- 
garding alike  her  husband's  protests  and  appeals. 
She  got  in  with  an  undesirable  set,  and  when  her 
name  became  coupled  with  that  of  a  man  of  still 
more  undesirable  reputation,  Denham  Carson 
went  in  person  to  interview  her.  It  was  a  stormy 
interview,  ending  in  a  violent  quarrel,  which  was 
heard  by  a  good  many  people  in  other  apartments. 
Carson  had  chosen  the  late  evening  for  his  visit, 
and  no  one,  apparently,  saw  him  leave.  Nor  was 
Mrs.  Carson  seen  again  that  night.  There  were  no 
servants  in  the  apartment  at  the  time;  she  was  a 
difficult  mistress  to  get  on  with,  and  generally 
relied  upon  outside  help,  in  spite  of  her  means. 
It  was  not  until  the  following  morning  that  she 
was  discovered  by  the  janitor,  who  came  to  the 
assistance  of  the  woman  who  was  working  at  the 
apartment  and  who,  in  spite  of  repeated  knock- 
ing, had  failed  to  gain  admittance. 

Mrs.  Carson  was  still  in  evening  dress,  and 


58     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

was  lying  huddled  on  the  floor.  She  was  quite 
dead.  There  was  a  livid  bruise  extending  from 
her  temple  to  the  cheek-bone,  and  which  must, 
according  to  medical  evidence,  have  been  caused 
by  a  violent  blow  from  a  man's  clenched  fist.  Also 
the  same  evidence  proved  that  she  had  been  dead 
for  hours,  probably  since  before  midnight. 

No  one  but  her  husband,  Denham  Carson, 
was  open  to  suspicion.  He  was  arrested  immedi- 
ately and  put  on  trial  for  his  life.  Circumstantial 
evidence  was  dead  against  him.  He  declared  that 
when  he  had  left  her  his  wife  had  been  perfectly 
well,  though  still  in  a  stubborn,  angry  mood.  He 
admitted  that  they  had  quarrelled;  denied  fiercely 
that  he  had  struck  her. 

Public  opinion  was  divided.  There  was  not 
enough  evidence  to  exact  the  extreme  penalty; 
but  in  the  minds  of  a  good  many  there  was  little 
doubt  that,  in  a  gust  of  blind  anger,  he  had  struck 
the  blow  which  had  killed  Mrs.  Carson. 

He  had  already  served  five  years  of  his  sen- 
tence when  he  made  his  sensational  escape.  Up 
to  the  time  of  going  to  press  no  further  particulars 
have  transpired.  If — 

Lee  put  down  the  paper  again  with  a  long 
breath.  She  felt  sick,  shaken.  It  was  with 
almost  feverish  relief  that  she  alighted  on  the 
platform  at  Waterloo. 

Terry  was  waiting  for  her,  the  Pom  under 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     59 

one  arm.  Long-legged,  untidy  as  ever,  but 
oddly  arresting,  she  caught  Lee's  eye  at  once, 
and  she  went  forward  with  unwonted  haste. 

Never  had  the  sight  of  Terry  been  more 
welcome.  She  stood  for  ordinary,  placid, 
everyday  things — made  the  past  feverish  fort- 
night and  the  day  which  had  preceded  it 
seem  like  a  nightmare.  Her  merry  laugh  even 
helped  to  obliterate  the  horror  of  the  para- 
graph Lee  had  just  read. 

Terry  greeted  her  with  effusion,  and,  talk- 
ing energetically,  piloted  her  through  the 
stream  of  passengers. 

"  My  dear!  But  it  's  no  end  of  a  relief  to 
have  you  back!  Positively,  there  is  n't  an 
intelligent  human  to  speak  to  among  the 
crowd  mother  contrives  to  collect  about  her! 
Except  old  Smithers!  He  's  pretty  decent 
— quite  above  the  average.  I  like  him!" 

All  this  was  breathless  and  exclamatory. 
Occasionally  she  gave  Lee's  arm  an  affec- 
tionate squeeze ;  once  she  paused  to  admonish 
the  Pom,  who  was  endeavouring  to  wriggle  out 
of  her  hold  in  his  delight  at  seeing  Lee;  once 
to  pull  up  her  stocking.  She  had  a  slight  alter- 
cation at  the  barrier  concerning  her  platform 
ticket  which  she  had  lost,  which  was  term- 


60     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

inated  by  Lee  impatiently  paying  the  penny, 
and  bestowed  a  sharp  but  effective  reprimand 
upon  an  investigating  youth  who  pulled  the 
dog's  tail. 

This  necessitated  her  remaining  behind  for 
a  moment  or  two.  Flushed  but  triumphant, 
she  caught  Lee  up  at  the  entrance. 

"  Little  sweep!"  she  exclaimed.  "  Said  he 
wanted  to  see  if  it  was  real — Chicot's  tail.  I 
guess  he  '11  know  his  own  ear  's  real  enough 
for  an  hour  or  so — I  tweaked  it  hard 
enough — " 

"Terry!    You—" 

"  I  'm  anything  but  ladylike !  I  know  it. 
And  I  can't  help  it.  In  fact,  I  'm  rather  glad 
of  it.  Ladylike  girls  must  have  a  devilish 
dull  time — and,  anyway,  they  're  pretty  out  of 
date,  are  n't  they?" 

"  I  'm  afraid  they  are."  Lee's  tone  was 
unconsciously  prim. 

Terry  pinched  her  arm  and  laughed. 

"  Dear  old  girl !  Don't  look  so  severe.  It 
does  n't  really  suit  you  a  little  bit.  .  .  .  Oh, 
I  was  saying  that  old  Smithers  is  a  decent 
sort,  was  n't  I?  He — " 

"  Terry!  Really  '  old  Smithers  '  is  scarcely 
a  graceful  way  of  speaking  of  a  person.  You 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     61 

are  not  a  little  girl  now,  you  know,  in  spite  of 
Teresa's  endeavours  to  keep  up  the  farce  that 
you  are.  And — " 

"Suffering  Moses!"  Terry's  voice  was 
plaintive;  she  "  eyed  "  the  other  with  ques- 
tioning reproach.  "  What  's  the  matter  with 
you,  Lee?  He  is  old — quite  old — and,  any- 
way, he  can't  hear  me.  By  the  way,  we  're 
driving  back  in  his  car — or,  rather,  one  of  his 
cars.  He  's  got  about  half  a  dozen  This  one  's 
a  beauty,  and  I  'm  learning  to  drive  it.  Frost 's 
teaching  me." 

"  Frost?" 

"  Old — Mr.  Smithers's  manservant.  He  's 
topping.  Just  like  one  of  those  you  read 
about  or  see  on  the  stage.  Very  stiff  and 
straight,  you  know,  and  clean-shaven.  And 
perfectly  wooden.  I  don't  believe  if  he  heard 
the  end  of  the  world  was  approaching  he  'd 
move  a  muscle.  Mr.  Smithers  has  had  him 
for  years — he  says  he  's  indispensable,  quite 
devoted,  and  the  most  efficient  servant  he  's 
ever  known.  He  certainly  does  know  how  to 
do  most  things  pretty  well.  He  drives  better 
than  Haines.  That  's  the  chauffeur.  But  he  's 
a  good  lot  younger  than  Frost,  and  more  reck- 
less. Mr.  Smithers  says  he  thinks  my  powers 


62     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

of  persuasion  would  be  too  much  for  him, 
and  he  'd  take  risks — but  he  's  rather  nice. 
Haines,  I  mean — though,  of  course,  Frost  is 
a  dear.  Only  you  can't  move  him  by  a  hair's 
breadth.  He  takes  his  orders  from  Mr. 
Smithers,  and  Mr.  Smithers  only — " 

She  paused  for  breath.  Lee's  lip  twitched. 
There  was  something  of  bewilderment  as  well 
as  a  faintly  contemptuous  amusement  in  her 
eyes. 

"  You  certainly  seem  to  have  become  pretty 
familiar  with  this  Mr.  Smithers  and  his  house- 
hold in  a  remarkably  short  time!"  she 
observed  drily,  and  Terry  humped  an  expres- 
sive shoulder. 

"  Sure  we  have.  I  told  you  in  my  letter 
he  's  absolutely  bowled  over.  Can't  understand 
it  myself.  Mother  is  n't  a  bit  the  type  I  'd 
have  thought  would  appeal  to  him — he  's  one 
of  those  old  gentlemen  you  read  about,  you 
know,  Lee — '  old  school/  courteous,  charm- 
ing, for  the  most  part,  but  with  a  rather  fierce 
manner,  and  inclined  at  times  to  become 
explosive.  Very  white — very  bushy  eye- 
brows— very  stooped.  Speaks  slowly,  delib- 
erately— almost  hesitatingly.  And  simply 
rolling  in  money.  Of  course  mother  's  all  over 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     63 

the  place  with  excitement.  Biggest  catch 
she  's  landed  yet —  if  she  pulls  it  off!" 

She  gurgled  at  Lee's  protesting  "  Terry!" 
and  shifted  Chicot  to  the  other  arm. 

"  Not  that  I  have  much  doubt  she  will.  He 
must  mean  business  or  he  would  n't  hang 
round  like  he  's  doing.  He  comes  every  day 
— and  if  he  does  n't  come  to  us  he  takes 
mother  out  somewhere.  Most  often  he  takes 
both  of  us.  He  's  a  brick  like  that.  I  Ve 
never  had  such  a  scrumptious  time — theatres 
— flowers — chocolates!  And  one  or  other  of 
the  cars  to  take  us.  Mother  '11  be  a  pudding 
if  she  rides  so  much." 

"  But,  Terry — "  Lee  paused  hesitantly. 
Her  eyes  were  troubled,  perplexed.  She 
added  a  moment  later:  "  It  seems  such  an 
extraordinarily  sudden  friendship — intimacy. 
Who  is  Mr.  Smithers,  anyway?" 

Again  Terry  shrugged. 

"  /  don't  know.  But  he  has  all  the  neces- 
sary credentials.  You  can  bet  your  life 
mother  '11  see  to  that  this  time — in  fact,  she 
said  as  much,  though  she  does  n't  talk  to  me 
about  things  often.  And  then  there  are  lots 
of  paragraphs  about  him  in  the  papers.  He  's 
going  all  out  to  get  himself  talked  about — 


64     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

could  n't  help  it,  with  so  much  money.    Oh, 
you  need  n't  curl  your  lip,  Lee.    He  's  no  par- 


venu." 


Lee  made  a  little  impatient  movement.  She 
did  not  answer,  and  a  moment  later  Terry's 
eager  hand  jerked  her  to  a  standstill  before  a 
big  chocolate  car  upholstered  in  soft  fawn. 

"  I  'm  driving!"  she  announced,  "  so  Frost 
came  instead  of  Haines.  Get  in.  I  'm  going 
in  front." 

The  man  opened  the  door,  wrapped  a  thin 
rug  carefully  about  Lee's  knees,  and  Terry, 
depositing  Chicot  in  her  lap,  whirled  into  her 
seat  before  the  wheel  with  a  great  display  of 
long  black  legs.  Lee  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
ladder  in  one  silk  stocking  and  a  hole  in  the 
heel  of  the  other,  then,  before  Frost  was  well 
in  his  seat,  the  car  jerked  forward. 

Terry's  driving  was  decidedly  erratic;  but 
at  those  moments  when  Lee  fully  expected 
disaster  Frost  capably  and  silently  took  com- 
mand. 

The  older  girl,  snuggled  in  a  cushioned 
corner  with  Chicot  curled  blissfully  beside  her 
and  occasionally  licking  her  wrist,  grew  gradu- 
ally conscious  of  a  sense  of  soothed  enjoy- 
ment. It  lulled  her  rasped  memory  of  the 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     65 

day's  shock  and  her  perplexity  regarding  this 
new  intimacy  of  Mrs.  Dorice's  alike. 

A  rare  feeling  of  well-being  was  upon  her. 
The  day  was  mellow,  perfect,  golden.  The 
big  car,  for  the  most  part,  slid  on  its  way  with- 
out a  jar.  Frost's  straight  back  and  unwaver- 
ing attention  to  Terry's  manipulation  of  the 
wheel  inspired  confidence.  Lee  ceased  to 
wonder  if  she  was  to  meet  a  violent  death 
beneath  the  wheels  of  rear  and  advancing 
traffic  and  gave  herself  up  to  enjoyment  of  the 
easy,  gliding  motion. 

For  not  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  came 
enviously  to  the  conclusion  that  it  must  be 
good  to  be  rich  as,  evidently,  this  man  who 
owned  the  big  chocolate  car  was  rich.  She 
found  herself  wondering  what  he  was  really 
like.  Terry's  descriptions,  though  occasion- 
ally crude,  were  as  a  rule  apt.  And  a  faint 
interest  stirred  Lee,  even  while  she  frowned 
disapprovingly  at  the  thought  of  her  step- 
mother's easy  acceptance  of  a  stranger's 
favours. 

She  was  intrigued  by  Terry's  description  of 
Mrs.  Dorice's  new  "  victim."  He  might, 
quite  easily,  be  a  rather  attractive  person, 
though,  she  decided,  it  was  more  than  possible 


66     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

that  Terry,  like  her  mother,  was  carried  away 
by  the  influence  of  Mr.  Smithers's  possessions 
and  amiable  attentions. 

It  was  not  until  an  hour  and  a  half  later,  in 
her  somewhat  flamboyantly  decorated  room, 
that  she  found  her  thoughts  reverting  to  Den- 
ham  Carson. 

It  occurred  to  her,  with  a  sudden  startled 
sense  of  shock,  that  it  was  plainly  her  duty  to 
tell  of  her  meeting  with  him  on  the  island. 
And  for  a  moment  she  stood,  brush  in  hand, 
her  cloud  of  wonderful  hair  all  about  her, 
staring  with  widening,  dismayed  eyes  at  her 
reflection  in  the  mirror. 

Her  breath  caught,  she  recoiled  in  horror 
from  the  mere  idea  of  such  a  thing — like  a 
flame  the  memory  of  that  kiss  of  his  burned 
her.  She  dropped  the  brush  and  caught  her 
hands  up  to  her  face. 

"  I  could  n't! "  she  said,  half  aloud.  "  Oh 
— I  could  n't — " 

She  stood  for  a  long  moment  without  mov- 
ing, thinking  deeply.  When  at  last  she  let 
her  hands  fall,  her  face  was  set,  a  little  hard, 
her  mouth  tightly  closed.  In  those  few  mo- 
ments she  had  faced  the  situation  grimly,  had 
decided  upon  her  course  of  action. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     67 

Rightly  or  wrongly  she  had  made  up  her 
mind  to  remain  silent  as  to  the  fact  that  she 
had  had  a  companion  on  Ruff's  Island.  From 
this  hour  she  meant  to  forget  it,  to  forget 
everything  that  had  happened  that  night  and 
the  following  morning.  She  was  determined 
to  put  this  man  absolutely  out  of  her  thoughts 
— to  forget  his  audacity  and  her  own  folly; 
to  kill,  deliberately,  inexorably,  that  faint, 
insidious  warmth  of  feeling  which,  against 
her  will,  had  been  growing  in  her  heart  for 
him. 

With  steady  hands  she  coiled  her  smooth 
hair  about  her  head;  carefully,  judicially  she 
chose  a  gown.  Perhaps  she  was  a  little  paler 
even  than  usual  as  she  made  her  way  out  of 
the  room  and  along  the  narrow  hall.  But  that 
was  all;  there  was  nothing  otherwise  to  show 
that  her  customary  serenity  was  in  any  degree 
ruffled. 

A  little  while  ago  she  had  peeped,  unexpect- 
edly, at  a  fresh  page  in  the  book  of  her  life. 
A  brief  page,  rather  dazzling,  oddly  alluring. 
She  sighed  as  she  remembered — and  bit  back 
the  sigh  angrily. 

To-night  she  had  closed  down  that  page, 
for  all  time. 


CHAPTER  V 

LEE  did  not  meet  Jason  Smithers  until  the 
following  day.  She  returned  home  to  the 
flat  after  a  wearisome  and  lonely  afternoon  of 
desultory  shopping  to  find  Mrs.  Dorice,  look- 
ing absurdly  young  and  quite  bewilderingly 
pretty,  chattering  to  him  vivaciously  while 
she  dispensed  tea. 

A  passing  frown  shadowed  her  good-humour 
at  Lee's  entrance,  and  she  performed  the 
necessary  introduction  with  a  rather  impa- 
tient note  in  her  voice.  The  interruption  was 
not  welcome.  Mrs.  Dorice's  elation  at  this 
man's  persistent  attentions  was  growing; 
nevertheless  the  character  of  those  attentions 
left  her  just  a  shade  puzzled.  In  her  heart  of 
hearts  she  was  bound  to  admit  that  she  was 
not  really  very  certain  what  they  might  be 
leading  to. 

Obviously  Mr.  Smithers  found  pleasure  in 
her  society,  liked  visiting  her  and  taking  her 
about.  But  his  manner  to  her  was  never 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     69 

anything  but  that  of  a  greatly  older  man 
enjoying  the  society  of  a  much  younger  and 
very  pretty  woman.  Not  by  the  greatest 
stretch  of  her  imagination  could  she  construe 
his  attitude  into  that  of  a  man  inclining 
towards  amorousness.  And  she  was  puzzled. 
At  the  same  time,  triumphantly  aware  of  her 
own  attraction  and  unusually  youthful  charm, 
she  was  growing  gradually  more  and  more  sure 
of  her  ability  to  bring  things,  in  due  course,  to 
a  satisfactory  climax. 

Mr.  Smithers  was  a  very  desirable  parti. 
He  appeared  to  enjoy  a  large  measure  of 
power  as  well  as  a  more  than  usually  large 
fortune.  He  had  not  been  in  England  any 
length  of  time,  yet  he  was  already  received 
by  a  good  many  of  the  people  who  mattered. 
The  house  that  he  had  purchased  was  fur- 
nished with  a  luxurious  good  taste;  he  did 
not  entertain  largely,  as  yet,  but  he  was 
lavish,  thoughtful,  observant,  and  the  machin- 
ery of  his  household  seemed  to  run  upon  oiled 
wheels. 

Another  woman  might  have  hesitated  be- 
fore accepting  his  attentions,  his  flowers,  and 
his  dinners  and  lunches  and  theatres.  But 
Mrs.  Dorice  had  no  scruples  in  this  respect; 


70     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

besides  which,  she  declared  later  to  Lee,  it 
was  quite  evident  that  he  was  persisting  in 
deepening  the  intimacy  with  some  serious  end 
in  view.  Added  to  which  he  invariably 
included  Terry  in  the  amusements  he  offered. 

As  she  gave  him  her  hand,  Lee  regarded 
him  closely,  her  direct  gaze  resting  steadily 
upon  him. 

She  saw  a  man  of  medium  height,  who 
looked  shorter  by  reason  of  the  pronounced 
stoop  of  his  somewhat  thin  shoulders.  In  his 
face  was  the  yellowish  pallor  of  old  age.  His 
hands  were  ivory  white,  big,  and  well  shaped. 
They  shook  a  good  deal,  and  he  moved  rather 
stiffly  with  the  aid  of  a  long,  gold- topped  cane. 
His  hair  was  snow  white  and  very  abundant, 
brushed  straight  back  from  his  forehead,  and 
worn  a  little  longer  than  was  perhaps  usual. 

His  brows  were  very  bushy  and  very  black, 
but  his  close-trimmed,  thick,  pointed  beard 
was  as  white  as  his  hair.  He  wore  very 
slightly  smoked  and  heavily  gold-rimmed 
pince-nez,  from  behind  which  a  pair  of  decep- 
tively mild  blue  eyes  looked  forth. 

He  had  a  habit  of  blinking  when  speaking, 
or  when  especially  interested.  He  spoke  with 
a  slight  hesitancy  that  was  at  moments  almost 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     71 

a  stammer,  and  his  voice  was  a  little  harsh. 
Later  she  learned  that  the  mild  eyes  could 
flash  very  fiercely  should  an  order  be  dis- 
obeyed or  his  will  be  crossed  in  even  the 
smallest  matter. 

She  learned,  too,  that  he  was  irascible, 
irritable,  fidgety,  and  more  than  a  little  dicta- 
torial. At  the  same  time  he  was  decidedly  like- 
able. She  decided  that  almost  as  soon  as  she 
found  herself  seated  in  the  chair  he  had  pulled 
forward  for  her  on  this  first  afternoon  of  their 
meeting. 

He  had  an  old-world  charm  of  manner,  a 
graceful,  half -deferential  courtesy  in  speaking 
to  all  women  that  was  refreshing  and  rather 
delightful.  She  found  herself  talking  to  him 
easily,  as  to  an  equal,  and  without  restraint. 
She  observed  with  relief  that  he  was  a  gentle- 
man, and  noted  with  still  greater  relief  that 
there  was  no  maudlin  leaning  towards  senti- 
mentality in  his  attitude  to  her  stepmother. 

He  was  interesting  to  talk  to,  more  inter- 
esting than  any  person  she  had  ever  yet  met 
beneath  her  stepmother's  roof.  He  excused 
his  ignorance  of  strictly  topical  affairs 
through  his  having  been  out  of  England  for  a 
considerable  number  of  years,  but  assured 


72     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

her  that  he  was  rapidly  making  up  for  lost 
time. 

It  appeared  that  he  went  everywhere  with 
untiring  energy,  and  saw  every  play,  worth 
seeing  or  not.  Discovering  her  real  liking  for 
books,  he  begged  her  to  visit  his  library,  and 
when  she  subsequently  found  herself  within 
it,  Lee  was  roused  to  genuine  enthusiasm. 

It  was  a  library  such  as  she  might  have 
dreamed  of,  but  had  never  hoped  to  see. 
Everything  was  there,  old  as  well  as  the  most 
modern.  She  left  the  big,  handsome  house 
impressed,  and — to  Terry — admittedly  en- 
vious. 

But  in  Mrs.  Dorice's  pink-and-white  draw- 
ing-room she  was  occupied  with  studying  the 
man  himself.  To  her  own  surprise  he  im- 
pressed her  very  favourably.  She  herself  was 
aroused  to  a  rare  animation.  It  brought  a 
warm  tint  of  colour  to  her  cheeks,  and  an 
added  brightness  to  her  grave  eyes. 

Terry,  bouncing  in  presently,  stared  at  Her, 
then,  subsiding  into  a  chair,  proceeded  to  drink 
the  tepid  tea  Teresa  handed  her  and  to  feed 
the  Pom  on  cake. 

"  I  Ve  been  trying  out  the  new  car,"  she  an- 
nounced with  a  little  cheerful  nod  at  Mr. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     73 

Smithers.  "  I  went  with  Haines,  but  Frost 
insisted  upon  coming  along  too.  Said  those 
were  your  instructions." 

The  old  man  glanced  at  her  quickly  and 
quizzically  through  his  glasses,  then  laughed. 

"  Quite  so.  Frost  is  a  remarkably  reliable 
person.  By  the  way,  I  told  him  to  keep  the 
car  here." 

"  It  's  waiting — the  admired  of  the  entire 
neighbourhood!  Every  curtain  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  building  was  disarranged  as  I 
drove  up.  Haines  hardly  had  the  wheel  once, 
Mr.  Smithers.  He  says  he  thinks  I  '11  be 
expert  in  another  week;  only  I  'm  not  quite 
sure  if  Frost  agrees." 

She  laughed  and  took  another  piece  of  cake. 

"  But  I  think  he  's  annoyed  because  in  turn- 
ing a  corner  I  scraped  a  bit  of  the  paint  off  her 
side  on  the  mudguard  of  a  'bus.  The  driver 
swore  furiously,  and  Frost  opened  and  shut 
his  mouth  like  a  fish.  But  Haines  laughed. 
Do  you  know,  Mr.  Smithers,  I  like  Haines 
awfully.  Much  better  than  Frost." 

Mr.  Smithers  smiled.  Before  he  could 
answer  Terry  rattled  on  once  more. 

"  Anyway,  I  have  n't  done  much  damage. 
It 's  really  only  a  little  scratch,  so  I  hope  you 


74     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

won't  be  angry  when  you  see  it.  I  really  did 
n't  mean  to  be  reckless,  and  I  'm  ever  so 
grateful  to  you  for  letting  me  learn  and  giving 
me  such  a  rattling  good  time." 

Her  gay  voice  was  suddenly  earnest.  She 
looked  up  at  the  old  man  with  frank,  wide 
eyes  that  had  grown  for  a  moment  grave.  He 
took  her  small  sticky  hand  and  patted  it. 

"  That  's  all  right,  my  dear.  I  'm  glad. 
I  'm  glad  you  're  getting  on  well  and  that  you 
like  it.  I  like  young  people  to  be  amused — 
just  as  I  like  a  lot  of  youth  about  me." 

He  turned  to  Mrs.  Dorice  and  Lee  again. 

"  By  the  way,  I  have  a  box  at  the  Majesty's 
for  to-night.  Will  you  share  it  with  me — all 
of  you?  I  thought  you  might  care  to  dine 
first  at  the  Ritz." 

Mrs.  Dorice  stirred  slightly.  The  faint 
frown  was  back  in  her  eyes  again. 

"  It  would  be  charming,"  she  declared 
quickly.  "  But,  you  know,  Mr.  Smithers, 
you  're  quite  spoiling  Terry — she  's  losing  a 
fearful  amount  of  beauty  sleep.  And  Lee 
does  n't  very  much  care  for  theatres — do  you, 
Lee?" 

Lee's  lips  twitched  for  a  moment,  her  soft 
eyes  darkened.  Then  she  shrugged.  But  the 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     75 

old  man's  eyes  were  upon  her;  he  persisted 
gently: 

"  I  hope  you  '11  come,"  he  said  simply. 
"  It 's  a  very  big  box — and  I  believe  the  show 
is  particularly  good." 

"  Of  course  she  '11  come!" 

Terry  whirled  to  her  feet,  nodding  emphati- 
cally, and  completely  ignoring  her  mother. 

"  We  '11  both  come,  like  a  shot!  It  's  rip- 
ping of  you  to  ask  us." 

The  old  man's  eyes  were  still  on  Lee.  She 
met  them  suddenly,  and  smiled. 

"  I  shall  love  to  come,"  she  told  him 
quietly,  and  rose. 

He  bowed,  and  turned  to  Mrs.  Dorice.  He 
murmured  a  few  words  in  his  odd,  hesitating 
way  as  she  gave  him  her  hand,  held  it  for  a 
moment,  then  moved  to  the  door. 

Terry  followed  him. 

"  You  really  are  a  brick,  you  know,"  she 
observed  frankly.  "  I  can't  make  out  why 
you  're  so  jolly  decent  to  us  all — " 

She  broke  off  abruptly,  standing  awkwardly 
on  one  leg  and  rubbing  the  other  up  and  down 
it,  to  the  detriment  of  her  silk  stocking. 

Mr.  Smithers  patted  her  shoulder  pater- 
nally. 


76     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  it  is  you  who  are 
'  jolly  decent '  to  me.  I  'm  a  very  old  man, 
you  know,  and  not  a  very  amusing  one.  It  is 
very  delightful  to  have  young  people  " — his 
courteous  inclination  of  his  white  head  very 
decidedly  included  Teresa  and  she  flushed,  the 
frown  disappearing  as  if  by  magic — "  about 
one.  It  is  a  long  time  since  that  pleasure  has 
been  mine.  I  have — especially  of  late  years 
— been  very  lonely." 

He  looked  away  for  a  minute  towards  the 
window.  In  his  voice  there  was  a  note  almost 
of  bitterness.  Lee  looked  at  him  quickly; 
Terry  balanced  herself  on  the  other  leg. 

"  But  have  n't  you  any  one  belonging  to 
you?"  she  demanded.  "  Have  n't  you  ever 
had  any  one?" 

Jason  Smithers  brought  his  eyes  back  from 
the  darkening  sky  without  and  blinked  at  her. 

"  Never,"  he  returned  quietly.    "  Never — 

not  any  one  that  mattered." 

..«..••• 

Some  minutes  later,  leaning  forward  with 
Terry  to  look  down  into  the  street,  Lee  saw 
him  moving  stiffly  across  the  pavement  to  the 
waiting  car,  with  Frost's  hand  under  his 
elbow. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     77 

His  voice,  harsh,  querulous,  impatient, 
came  floating  up  to  them.  It  rose  once, 
angrily.  The  rap  of  his  cane  on  the  kerb  was 
distinct. 

Terry  grinned. 

"  I  expect  he  's  seen  the  scratch!"  she  said. 
"  And  Haines  is  getting  hauled  over  the  coals 
for  not  keeping  a  closer  watch  over  me! " 

Among  her  pink  cushions  Teresa  stirred. 
Her  good-humour  was  fully  restored;  she  eyed 
Lee  complacently. 

"  Well,"  she  demanded,  unconsciously 
glancing  towards  a  distant  mirror  and  stretch- 
ing up  her  throat.  "  What  do  you  think  of 
him?" 

Lee  did  not  answer  at  once.  She  was  watch- 
ing the  car  drive  away.  Then  she  shrugged 
and  turned  back  into  the  room. 

"  I  have  n't,"  she  replied,  "  seen  quite 
enough  of  him  to  be  able  to  decide  yet.  But 
he  certainly  does  seem  awfully  kind-hearted." 

Just  before  she  had  finished  dressing  that 
evening,  a  maid  came  to  her  room  with  a  great 
box  of  flowers.  Jason  Smithers's  card  was 
attached,  and  the  girl  drew  a  deep  breath  of 
pleasure  as  she  took  the  roses  out.  They 
were  deep  and  red  and  wonderful,  and  she 


78     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

held  them  for  a  moment  against  her  face. 

Then,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  she  took 
one  from  among  them  and  fastened  it  to  the 
breast  of  her  white  gown. 

From  across  the  hall  she  could  hear  Terry's 
and  Mrs.  Dorice's  voices  raised  in  altercation. 
Teresa's  was  shrill;  Terry's  calmly  deter- 
mined. 

"  I  can't  help  it.  He  asked  me  to  go,  too, 
and  I  'm  going.  He  would  n't  have  asked  me 
if  he  had  n't  wanted  me.  And,  anyway,  it  's 
not  my  fault  if  I  have  n't  any  decent  clothes 
— now,  is  it?  If  you  're  ashamed  of  being 
seen  with  me  in  my  old  ones — well,  you  'd 
better  get  me  some  new.  It  'd  be  worth 
while — if  only  to  keep  old  Smithers  well  im- 
pressed. Besides — if  you  think  I  look  too 
shabby  like  this  I  '11  go  and  ask  Lee  to  lend 
me  one  of  her  white  muslins.  It  'd  be  too 
long,  of  course,  and  I  'd  look  years  older; 
but—" 

Lee  heard  no  more.  Mrs.  Dorice's  door 
shut;  and  half  an  hour  later  Terry,  in  over- 
short  skirts,  as  usual,  but  flushed  with 
triumph,  was  doing  justice  to  Mr.  Smithers's 
excellent  selection  of  a  dinner. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THAT  night  was  the  first  of  many  such.  Jason 
Smithers  was  as  persistent  in  his  attentions 
as  ever;  as  eager  to  give  the  two  girls  a  good 
time  as  to  amuse  Mrs.  Dorice. 

And,  while  there  were  moments  when  she 
chafed  at  his  delay  in  making  plainer  his 
intentions,  Mrs.  Dorice  was  very  well  content. 
It  was  a  content  which  had  deepened  since 
one  day  he  had  begged  for  her  advice  con- 
cerning the  furnishing  of  certain  rooms  in  his 
big  house. 

"  It  's  too  dull,"  he  had  declared  in  his 
irascible  way.  "  Because  I  'm  an  old  man  the 
people  who  did  the  whole  place  for  me  made 
up  their  minds  it  should  be  without  colour — 
sombre.  That  's  all  very  well  up  to  a  point, 
but  a  woman  would  n't  like  it.  She  'd  want 
something  brighter — gayer.  I  thought  you 
might  help  me." 

Flattered  and  fluttered,  Teresa  had  de- 
clared herself  delighted.  Nevertheless,  her  in- 
inclinations  had  been  for  a  more  expensive  edi- 
tion of  her  own  present  rooms — pink-and- white 


80     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

chintzes  and  diaphanous  hangings,  and  Mr. 
Smithers  had  appeared  dubious. 

Later  he  had  appealed  to  Lee.  She  had 
frowned  and  shrugged,  then  laughed.  Finally 
she  had  looked  at  him  very  straightly. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Smithers,  my  taste  and  my 
stepmother's  are  utterly  opposed.  Don't  you 
think  that  Mrs.  Dorice  would  be  able  to  help 
you  more  effectively?" 

Behind  his  smoked  glasses  Mr.  Smithers's 
eyes  had  blinked  in  complete  perplexity.  But 
he  had  said  no  more.  Nevertheless,  Terry 
brought  the  information  that  part  of  the 
house  was  being  redecorated. 

"  It 's  ripping,"  she  declared.  "  He  showed 
it  to  me.  All  soft  pastel  shades,  and  old  oak — 
oh,  and  a  lot  of  those  pictures  you  were  admir- 
ing the  other  day,  Lee.  You  'd  love  it." 

Thus  a  month  slipped  by,  six  weeks,  eight. 
Lee  had  learned  to  accept  the  old  man  now, 
and  to  like  him  a  little.  He  neither  bored  nor 
annoyed  her,  and  she  went  out  of  her  way  to 
be  nice  to  him.  And  then,  one  afternoon,  she 
came  home  to  find  the  maids  running  about 
with  hot-water  bottles  and  sal  volatile,  and 
Terry,  very  red  in  the  face,  choking  on  the 
threshold  of  her  own  room. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     81 

"  Gome  in!"  she  gasped;  then,  as  Lee  fol- 
lowed her  wonderingly,  dropped  limply  on  to 
the  edge  of  the  bed.  "  It  's  all  right.  No 
one  's  ill.  Only — only  mother  's  had  hyster- 
ics—" 

She  began  suddenly  to  giggle  helplessly, 
heartlessly.  She  struggled  manfully  for  com- 
posure after  a  minute,  and  went  on. 

"  And — I  don't  wonder.  You  see — Jason 
Smithers  came  to-day.  He  asked  to  see 
mother  alone  and — and — oh,  Lee!  it  is  n't 
her  he  wants  to  marry  at  all/  It  's  you!" 

•  •••*••« 

Lee  grew  slowly  scarlet.  For  a  moment  she 
stood,  with  eyes  that  had  begun  to  sparkle 
more  than  a  little  angrily,  speechless.  Then 
she  flung  her  muff  and  gloves  on  the  bed  and 
began  to  loosen  her  furs. 

"  Really,  Terry,"  she  said  sharply,  "  you 
are  getting  absolutely  incorrigible.  Some 
jokes  are  in  exceedingly  bad  taste.  Tell  me 
what  is  the  matter  with  Teresa  at  once — " 

"I  have  told  you!"  Terry's  tone  was  at 
once  injured  and  eager.  "  And  I  'm  not  jok- 
ing! It  's  perfectly  true — every  word  of.it. 
Mr.  Smithers  came  this  evening,  and  made 
Teresa  a  formal  proposal  for  your  hand  in  the 


82     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

good  old-fashioned  style.  Personally,  I  don't 
see  what  she  has  got  to  do  with  it — you  're 
your  own  mistress — but  then  Mr.  Smithers 
belongs  to  the  old  school,  I  suppose,  and  looks 
upon  her  as  your  guardian.  Anyway,  there  it 
is.  He  wants  to  marry  you,  Lee.  It  is  you 
who  have  been  the  attraction  all  the  time! 
And  even  /  thought  that  Teresa  had  added 
another  scalp  to  her  belt.  You  see,  he  was  so 
— so — eager  for  our  society  long  before  you 
came  home.  But  apparently,  there  was 
nothing  in  it — unless  " — with  another  giggle 
— "  he  fell  in  love  with  your  photograph.  I 
remember  showing  him  a  couple  of  snapshots 
I  took  of  you  with  your  hair  down — " 

She  paused  for  breath  as  Lee  made  a  sharp 
movement.  The  colour  was  still  in  her 
cheeks,  but  her  eyes  were  startled  now  rather 
than  angry.  Terry's  tone  carried  conviction. 
She  no  longer  doubted  the  truth  of  her  utterly 
astonishing  statement;  and  she  felt  for  the 
moment  a  little  breathless,  more  than  a  little 
dazed. 

The  thing  was  so  sudden,  so  unlooked-for. 
Like  the  younger  girl,  Lee  had  been  convinced 
that  there  was  something  deeper  than  mere 
friendship  prompting  Jason  Smithers's  con- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     83 

tinued  attentions.  But  she  had  never  for  a 
moment  doubted  that  Teresa  Dorice  was  the 
magnet  which  drew  him  so  frequently  to  the 
flat. 

Never  for  a  moment  had  it  occurred  to  her 
that  the  old  man's  interest  might  be  centred 
in  herself.  She  had  learned  to  look  for  his 
coming,  to  try  to  entertain  and  amuse  him, 
even  to  like  him  a  little.  She  had  found  him 
a  by  no  means  dull  or  stupid  companion;  had 
discovered  that  their  tastes  in  many  things 
were  very  similar,  and  that  she  could  give 
him  real  pleasure  by  listening  while  he  talked 
to  her  on  various  subjects,  or  in  playing  for 
him  occasionally  a  little  of  his  favourite 
music. 

But  she  certainly  had  not  guessed  that  his 
courteous  appreciation  of  her  efforts  to  enter- 
tain him  had  cloaked  any  warmer  feeling.  He 
had  never  thrust  his  company  upon  her,  had 
claimed  only  a  very  little  of  her  time,  and  had 
apparently  devoted  himself  to  Mrs.  Dorice. 
So  that  Terry's  news  came  upon  her  with  a 
shock  that  literally  took  her  breath  away. 

She  let  her  furs  slide  from  her  shoulders 
and  fall  unheeded  at  her  feet.  Her  thoughts 
were  chaotic;  she  was  bewildered,  half  indig- 


84     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

nant,  still  faintly  angry.  Visualising  Jason 
Smithers,  she  told  herself  that  the  thing  was 
preposterous,  absurd.  He  was  an  old  man — 
so  very  much  older  than  he  desired,  it  would 
seem,  his  acquaintances  to  believe  him.  She 
remembered  the  stoop  of  his  shoulders,  the 
unsteadiness  of  his  hands,  the  stiffness  with 
which  he  rose  and  moved — and  in  a  quick 
revulsion  of  feeling  flung  out  her  hands. 

"  It — oh,  I  could  n't!"  she  cried,  and  there 
was  almost  horror  in  her  tone. 

Terry  glanced  at  her  and  grinned. 

"  Bit  of  a  staggerer,  is  n't  it?"  she  de- 
manded with  relish;  then  added  more  slowly: 
"  And — of  course — an  opportunity  in  a  thou- 
sand." She  grinned  again.  "  I  'm  quoting 
mother.  In  her  opinion,  at  any  rate,  Mr. 
Smithers  is  the  catch  of  the  season,  as  it 


were." 


Again  Lee's  hands  went  out,  then  up  to  her 
flushed  cheeks.  In  spite  of  herself,  the  words 
stuck.  "  An  opportunity  in  a  thousand !  .  .  ." 

She  moved  sharply  and  turned  away.  As 
she  did  so  she  met  her  own  eyes  in  the  little 
oval  mirror  on  Terry's  dressing-table.  Their 
expression  startled  her,  and  a  hotter  flame  ran 
up  over  her  face. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     85 

Abruptly,  vehemently  she  exclaimed: 

"  It  's  quite  out  of  the  question — impos- 
sible! I — I  can't  imagine  how  ever  he  could 
have  dreamed  that  I  would  even  listen  to 
such  a  suggestion — " 

She  spoke  jerkily,  more  flurriedly  than 
Terry  had  ever  heard  her  speak  before.  Out 
of  her  vivid  brown  face  the  grin  died  sud- 
denly; her  eyes  became  thoughtful,  oddly  cal- 
culating. For  a  moment  she  sat,  hugging  her 
thin  knees,  watching  Lee.  Then  she  sighed, 
shrugged,  and  got  to  her  feet. 

"  That  's  a  pity,"  she  observed.  "  There 
are  n't  so  many  brilliant  matrimonial  chances 
knocking  about  that  one  can  turn  'em  down. 
Old  Smithers  is  really  an  awfully  decent  sort. 
Not  a  bit  stingy,  and  not — I  should  imagine 
— so  frightfully  hard  to  get  on  with.  A  bit 
gouty  and  irritable,  perhaps — but  one  can't 
have  the  earth  with  a  fence  round  it,  can  one? 
Not  when  it  comes  to  marrying  to  get  it, 
anyway." 

She  paused  to  tilt  her  head  sideways  and 
listen  to  the  distant,  querulous  sound  of 
Teresa's  slightly  raised  voice,  and  a  flicker  of 
amusement  crossed  her  impish  face. 

"Poor  mother  1"  she  murmured,  with  un- 


86     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

wonted  sympathy.  "  I  should  n't  wonder  if 
she  's  completely  prostrated  for  nearly  a 
week!  I  'm  quite  sorry  for  her.  Or,  perhaps, 
to  be  really  honest,  I  'm  sorry  for  myself. 
I  Ve  been  having  a  thundering  good  time 
lately,  and  I  suppose  if  the  poor  old  chap  gets 
turned  down  I  '11  have  to  say  good-bye  to  it." 

She  sighed  again,  making  a  rueful  grimace, 
and  after  a  moment  followed  Lee,  slipping  a 
hand  in  the  crook  of  her  elbow  as  she  stood 
before  the  dressing-table. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  suggested  tentatively, 
"  you  could  n't  think  it  over?  It  never  does 
to  decide  hastily,  you  know.  And  you  'd  have' 
no  end  of  a  ripping  existence,  Lee.  My  mouth 
waters  whenever  I  look  round  that  house  of 
his — 'specially  since  he  's  had  it  re-decorated. 
Then  the  cars — and  he  's  going  to  buy  a 
couple  of  riding  hacks!  Oh,  Lord,  Lee!  It 
ought  to  be  easy  enough  to  say  '  yes.'  Espe- 
cially for  you.  You  don't  care  tuppence  for 
men  as  men — and  it  is  n't  as  though  you  were 
in  love  with  any  one  else!" 

Lee  withdrew  her  arm  so  quickly  that  the 
movement  was  almost  violent.  A  startled 
look  swept  her  face — her  eyes  widened  for  a 
moment,  darkened  as  if  with  a  memory  that 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     87 

held  more  than  a  little  of  pain.  During  these 
long  weeks  she  had  very  deliberately  put  all 
thought  of  the  episode  of  Ruff's  Island  away 
from  her.  But  now  Denham  Carson's  face 
rose  before  her  anew — fiercely  she  bit  the 
lips  upon  which,  once,  his  had  lain. 

Then,  abruptly,  she  turned,  gathering  to- 
gether her  muff  and  the  furs. 

"  No,"  she  said,  so  decidedly  that  it  would 
seem  she  was  striving  to  convince  herself, 
"  it  is  n't  as  if  I — loved  some  one  else — " 

She  broke  off  as  a  maid  appeared  in  the 
doorway.  She  held  a  big  salver  on  which  lay 
a  small  square  envelope,  and  offered  it  to 
Lee. 

"  From  Mr.  Smithers,  miss,"  she  said.  "  His 
servant  is  here  waiting  for  an  answer." 

For  an  instant,  flushed,  uncertain,  Lee 
hesitated;  then  she  picked  up  the  envelope 
and  tore  it  quickly  open.  Over  her  shoulder 
Terry  read  it. 

May  I  see  you  this  evening  after  dinner,  at 
nine?  Or  if  that  is  inconvenient,  to-morrow  at 
noon? 

J.  S. 

Lee  folded  it  carefully  and  put  it  slowly 


88     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

back  into  its  envelope.  Terry  opened  her 
lips  as  if  to  speak,  then  closed  them  again. 
There  was  something  in  Lee's  face  that  was 
unaccustomed  and  rather  subduing. 

Lee  spoke  after  a  moment,  deliberately, 
quietly,  though  two  bright  spots  of  colour 
flamed  for  a  moment  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Tell  Frost,"  she  said,  "  that  I  shall  expect 
Mr.  Smithers  at  nine  this  evening." 


CHAPTER  VH 

LEE  found  the  ensuing  hours  even  more  un- 
comfortable than  she  had  anticipated.  Con- 
trary to  her  expectations,  her  stepmother  sent 
a  message  demanding  her  immediate  attend- 
ance; and,  somewhat  reluctantly,  but  with 
her  head  held  very  high,  the  girl  made  her 
way  down  the  narrow  little  hall,  and  into  the 
over-luxurious  pink-and-white  room  in  which 
Teresa  awaited  her. 

She  was  propped  by  innumerable  pillows, 
and  looking,  for  once,  a  travesty  of  her  usually 
charming  self.  Her  attack  of  hysterics  had, 
upon  this  occasion,  been  genuine — and  violent. 
Her  pansy  eyes  were  almost  hidden  between 
swollen  lids,  there  was  an  ugly  flush  hi  her 
cheeks,  and  Lee,  shutting  the  door  gently 
behind  her,  was  conscious  of  a  sharp  sense  of 
recoil,  of  apprehension. 

Mrs.  Dorice  was  quite  quiet  again,  but  by 
no  means  yet  recovered  from  the  ravages 
caused  by  her  outburst.  At  the  sound  of  the 


90    THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

shutting  door  she  turned  her  head  slightly, 
and,  as  she  met  Lee's  eyes,  her  lips  twisted 
sharply. 

For  a  long  moment  there  was  silence.  Lee, 
outwardly  cold,  unruffled  as  ever,  was  aware 
of  an  inward  distress  and  embarrassment.  She 
would  have  given  quite  a  good  deal  to  be 
spared  the  ordeal  of  interviewing  Teresa  at 
this  particular  moment.  She  sighed  a  little, 
and  came  a  slow  step  farther  into  the  room. 

"  You  sent  for  me?"  she  said  evenly,  and 
Teresa  made  a  sudden,  violent  movement. 
Again  her  lips  twisted;  abruptly  she  turned 
on  her  side,  leaning  upon  her  elbow. 

"  Yes,"  she  cried,  her  voice  still  husky  from 
the  recent  storm.  "  I  sent  for  you.  Jason 
Smithers  was  here  this  evening.  He — " 

"I  know!"  Lee  spoke  quickly,  a  faint 
colour  rising  in  her  cheeks.  "  Terry  told  me. 
I — am  awfully  sorry." 

There  was  a  genuine  regret  in  her  voice 
that  seemed  to  goad  Teresa.  She  laughed 
shrilly,  her  eyes  glinting  between  their  swollen 
lids. 

"  Don't  be  a  hypocrite!"  she  retorted,  and 
added  on  a  rising  note  of  indignation — "  Oh, 
you  stand-off,  touch-me-not  girls!  You  're  all 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     91 

alike — as  sly  as  they  make  them.  You — " 
She  broke  off.  Before  the  slow,  growing 
scorn  of  Lee's  level  gaze  the  accusation  fell 
somewhat  flat.  She  was  silent  for  a  moment, 
breathing  quickly.  She  longed,  viciously,  to 
make  Lee  smart  even  as  she  had  smarted 
during  the  last  hour;  her  pride  and  self-esteem 
had  been  seriously  wounded;  she  had  told 
herself  passionately  that  she  had  been  made  a 
fool  of,  while  in  her  heart  of  hearts  she  knew 
that  she  had  made  a  fool  of  herself. 

Her  supreme  conceit  had  made  her  blind 
to  the  reason  for  Jason  Smithers's  visits,  she 
had  misread  his  courteous  attentions,  had 
jumped  at  once  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
succumbed  to  her  fascinations.  She  had  spent 
days  and  weeks  in  self-satisfied  dreaming,  had 
made  dazzling  plans  for  the  future — worse 
than  all,  she  had  spent  freely  and  recklessly 
in  an  effort,  by  personal  adornment  of  a  more 
than  usually  extravagant  kind,  to  make  herself 
more  than  ever  attractive.  No  wonder  the 
awakening  had  been  bitter! 

Characteristically  she  thrust  the  blame 
upon  Lee,  instead  of  accepting  it  herself,  even 
while  she  found  it  impossible  to  cheat  herself 
into  the  belief  that  the  girl  had  been  any 


92     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

wiser  regarding  the  old  man's  intentions  than 
herself. 

After  a  moment,  with  an  effort,  she  forced 
herself  to  speak  more  quietly. 

"  Of  course,"  she  declared,  "  he  is  awfully 
old,  and  very  old  men  never  know  their  own 
minds  two  minutes  together!  You  '11  find 
it  wiser  to  make  up  your  mind  without  too 
much  dallying,  Lee.  He  may  want  to  back 
out  later  on.  Not " — with  another  shrill 
laugh — "  that  being  tied  up  for  life  to  any 
one  quite  so  senile  is  altogether  enviable, 
when  one  comes  to  think  about  it!  I  can 
imagine  that  Mr.  Jason  Smithers  can  be  more 
than  a  little  trying  on  occasions.  He  's  pretty 
peppery,  at  the  best  of  times — " 

Lee  interrupted  deliberately. 

"  Are  n't  you  taking  a  great  deal  for 
granted?"  she  said.  "  I  am  not  aware  of 
having  said  or  done  anything  to  give  you  the 
impression  that  I  have  any  intention  of — of 
accepting  this  preposterous  offer!  I — " 

"  But  you  are  going  to?" 

Teresa's  voice  was  sharp.  She  sat  upright 
among  the  cushions,  and  pushed  the  hair  im- 
patiently out  of  her  eyes. 

Lee  looked  at  her  in  vague  surprise,  and, 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     93 

reading  the  glance,  Teresa  flushed  a  little 
more  deeply. 

"Of  course  you  are!"  she  repeated. 
"  You  '11  be  crazy  if  you  don't! — " 

Lee  made  a  restless  movement. 

"  I  think,"  she  cried,  "  that  I  should  be  mad 
if  I  did!  Why,  it— it  's  unthinkable.  Mr. 
Smithers  is  almost  old  enough  to  be  my  grand- 
father—" 

"  Tclck! "  Teresa  scoffed.  "  I  tell  you  it 's  a 
chance  in  a  million!  Besides  " — she  hesitated 
for  a  moment,  and  her  eyes  narrowed — 
"  things  can't  go  on  here  as  they  are.  I  can't 
have  you  on  my  hands  any  longer,  Lee.  I 
hinted  as  much  before  you  went  to  Surrey;  I 
told  you  you  'd  have  to  marry.  I  '11  speak 
more  plainly  still  to-night.  You  Ve  got  to 
marry — or — or  find  somewhere  else  to  go.  I 
simply  can't  afford  to  keep  you  or  dress  you — 
or  have  you  hanging  around.  It  's  no  use 
mincing  matters.  You  're  in  my  way  now;  as 
you  yourself  said,  you  '11  very  soon  be  in 
Terry's.  There  's  no  room  for  the  three  of  us 
under  the  same  roof,  Lee." 

She  paused,  eyeing  the  girl  a  trifle  ner- 
vously; then  before  Lee  could  speak  she 
added: 


94     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  Besides,  you  know,  you  said  that  the  very 
first  proposal  you  might  have,  whoever  or 
whatever  the  man,  you  'd  accept." 

Lee  started.  Her  eyes  had  darkened.  She 
was  no  longer  flushed,  but  very  pale.  Her 
lips  were  pressed  close  together,  and  her 
breath  was  not  quite  even.  She  was  conscious 
of  a  suffocating  sense  of  bitter  resentment — 
and  of  sudden,  utter  helplessness.  The  pride 
in  her  cried  aloud  to  her  to  take  Teresa's 
unexpectedly  blunt  ultimatum  in  the  same 
spirit  in  which  it  had  been  flung  at  her.  Ex- 
istence under  Mrs.  Dorice's  regime  had  been 
difficult  since  the  moment  of  Tom  Dorice's 
death.  Lee  knew  that  after  to-night  it  would 
be  impossible.  She  had  endured  dependence 
upon  her  stepmother  stoically  until  now;  but 
she  could  endure  it  no  longer.  Things  had  come 
to  a  climax;  the  breach  between  them  was 
open  now.  Teresa  had  said  in  the  heat  of 
the  moment  and  the  bitterness  of  her  angry 
disappointment  that  which  she  had  only 
hinted  at  before.  But  it  was  her  concluding 
sentence  that  seared  her  mind  now,  and 
would  not  be  denied. 

Her  thoughts  leaped  back  to  that  other 
interview,  weeks  old  now — to  the  defiant 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     95 

promise  which  had  been  wrung  from  her  by 
the  goad  of  Teresa's  complainings.  And  a 
vivid  flush  flamed  up  to  her  temples,  to  fade 
leaving  her  paler  than  before. 

Her  own  words  seemed  to  flash  before  her: 
"  The  very  first  man  who  asks  me  to  marry 
him,  whoever  he  is,  or  whatever  he  is — I  '11 
accept!" 

She  stood  very  still,  staring  back  into 
Teresa's  eyes.  For  perhaps  the  first  time  she 
fully  realised  the  real  meaning  of  Jason 
Smithers's  offer,  and  involuntarily  she  gasped. 
Then,  rather  blindly,  and  without  a  word  she 
turned,  and,  wrenching  open  the  door,  went 
swiftly  out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BUT  when,  more  than  an  hour  later,  she  stood 
face  to  face  with  Jason  Smithers,  Lee  was 
perfectly  composed.  Whatever  of  agitation 
she  might  have  felt  she  successfully  concealed. 
She  gave  the  old  man  a  cool  hand,  and  he  held 
it  for  a  moment,  blinking  at  her  in  his  odd 
way  from  behind  the  smoked  glasses. 

Lee  met  his  glance  straightly  and  in  silence, 
making  no  attempt  to  free  her  fingers.  Pres- 
ently he  let  them  go,  and  the  girl  dropped 
back  into  the  chair  from  which  she  had  risen. 

"  I  was  here  this  afternoon,"  Smithers  said, 
"  but  I  did  not  wait  to  see  you  then,  as  your 
stepmother  seemed  a  little — upset." 

Lee  was  conscious  of  a  momentary  almost 
irrepressible  desire  to  smile.  She  said,  after 
a  slight  pause: 

"  She  has  a  headache.  She  is  lying  down 
now.  But " — the  colour  rose  faintly  in  her 
cheeks — "  she  has  told  me  the  nature  of  your 
interview  with  her." 

Mr.  Smithers  looked  relieved. 

"  I  'm  glad  of  that,"  he  said  quietly.    "  It 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     97 

simplifies  matters  for  me — and  you  will  have 
already  had  time  to  give  my — ah — suggestion 
some  slight  consideration." 

"  Yes."  Lee's  voice  was  quite  expression- 
less. She  sat  with  her  head  slightly  bent,  her 
hands  clasped  in  her  lap. 

The  old  man  peered  at  her,  slightly  frown- 
ing. Behind  his  glasses  his  glance  was  more 
piercing,  and  a  great  deal  more  anxious  than 
she  knew. 

He  coughed  gently. 

"  I  ought,  perhaps,  to  have  approached  you 
on  the  matter  before  speaking  to  Mrs.  Dorice. 
But  I  belong  to  another  generation,  and  have, 
perhaps,  rather  old-fashioned  notions.  Re- 
garding Mrs.  Dorice  as  your  natural  guardian, 
I  thought  best  to  make  my  offer  through 
her." 

Lee  half  opened  her  lips,  and  her  clasped 
hands  stirred  slightly.  But  she  remained 
silent,  and  he  looked  at  her  tentatively. 

"  I  felt,  however,"  he  proceeded,  "  that  I 
should  like  to  have  my  answer  direct  from 
you." 

He  moved  a  little  nearer  to  her,  and  stood 
above  her,  leaning  rather  heavily  on  his  long, 
gold-topped  cane.  Lee,  rather  abruptly,  turned 


98     THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

her  face  away.  Only  the  stirring  of  the  slen- 
der, white,  ringless  fingers  betrayed  the  fact 
that  she  was  not  altogether  as  calm  as  she 
would  appear.  Mr.  Smithers's  eyes  rested  on 
them  briefly,  then  lifted  to  the  fine,  soft  curve 
of  her  cheek. 

"  Before  you  give  it,"  he  went  on  slowly, 
"  I  would  like  to  say  a  few  words  to  you  which 
— possibly — may  influence  your  decision." 

Lee  bent  her  head.  She  felt  the  intentness 
of  his  gaze,  and  was  angry  with  herself 
because  of  the  deepening  colour  in  her  cheeks. 
Her  thoughts  were  still  chaotic;  her  emotions 
difficult  of  definition. 

"  Had  I  been  even  ten  years  younger,"  the 
slightly  hesitating  voice  went  on,  "  I  might 
not  have  summoned  sufficient  courage  to  dare 
so  much — or  to  hope  at  all.  Because  I  should 
not  then  have  found  it  so  easy  to  keep  out 
all  question  of  sentiment.  Ten  years  ago  I 
might  have  wanted  more  from  you  than  you 
would  have  been  willing  to  give — more  than 
just  the  joy  of  your  youth  near  me,  your  com- 
panionship. As  it  is — " 

He  paused  as  Lee  stirred  sharply,  and 
looked  down  quickly  at  the  hands  upon  his 
supporting  cane.  They  were  even  more  un- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE     99 

steady  than  usual,  and  in  the  hidden  eyes  was 
an  expression  which  might  have  startled  Lee 
more  than  a  little  had  she  seen  it.  It  passed, 
and  he  went  on  quietly: 

"  As  it  is,  you  can — if  you  will — make  the 
remainder  of  my  life  less  empty,  and  less 
cold.  I  have  a  great  deal  that  men  envy  me, 
wealth,  ease,  comfort.  But  I  want  more.  I 
have  wanted  more — all  my  life!" 

His  voice  rose  a  trifle,  grew  less  hesitant. 
For  an  instant  it  was  vibrant  with  an  almost 
passionate  vehemence.  He  leaned  a  little 
nearer,  and  Lee  laid  her  hands  rather  nerv- 
ously on  either  arm  of  her  chair.  She  was 
looking  at  him  now,  looking  at  him  with  a  new 
interest,  intently.  He  caught  the  look  and 
held  it.  When  he  spoke  his  voice  was  re- 
pressed, once  more  hesitantly  gentle. 

"  I  want  companionship.  I  want  youth  to 
watch,  even  if  I  may  not  share  it.  I  want  to 
make  real — in  a  measure — the  dreams  I 
dreamed  long  ago;  dreams  of  a  home,  and  a 
woman's  presence  to  make  it  sweet.  Above 
all,  I  want  an  end  to  my  loneliness." 

He  paused,  but  as  Lee  was  about  to  open 
her  lips  raised  his  hand. 

"  Wait.    Let  me  finish.    These  things  you 


100  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

can  give  me.  No  other  woman  could.  Had 
Fate  been  kinder — " 

He  broke  off.  Lee,  still  watching  him,  was 
rubbing  her  fingers  up  and  down  the  arms  of 
her  chair. 

He  bent  suddenly  and  laid  his  hand  over 
one  of  hers. 

"  I  have  seen  that  you  are  not  happy,  Lee. 
Had  you  been  I  might  not  have  spoken  at  all 
of  my  feeling  for  you.  As  it  is  it  seems  to  me 
that  it  is  just  possible  you  may  bring  yourself 
to  consent.  As  my  wife  you  would  know  ease, 
luxury,  comfort.  You  would  find  yourself 
honoured,  guarded,  and — loved." 

He  tightened  his  fingers  over  hers  as  she 
moved  them  sharply,  and  smiled  for  a  minute, 
oddly,  whimsically. 

"  I  am  not  breaking  my  promise  and  bring- 
ing in  sentiment.  I  am  simply  stating  a  truth. 
I  do  love  you,  in  my  way.  I  am  not  fool 
enough  to  make  protestations  of  a  lover's  ado- 
ration, any  more  than  I  am  fool  enough  to 
hope  for  more  than  just  a  little  liking.  But  it 
would  make  me  happy  to  have  the  right  to 
have  you  constantly  near  me,  to  give  you  all 
that  I  should  like  to  give.  You  would,  in 
marrying  me,  sacrifice  nothing  but  your  free- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   101 

dom.  I  should  ask  of  you  only  comradeship, 
a  little  of  your  time  and  a  small  share  in  some 
of  your  interests.  I  should  expect  a  faithful 
honouring  of  the  bond  between  us.  In 
return — " 

He  paused  again,  straightening  himself 
rather  stiffly. 

"  I  think,  in  return,  I  could  give  you  much 
that  your  life  has  lacked.  A  home — a  real 
home;  a  little  of  the  gaiety  and  pleasure 
that  is  due  to  you.  In  short,  I  would  try  to 
make  your  bondage  as  bearable  as  possible, 
though  I  am  afraid  you  will  find  me  pretty 
exacting.  I  'm  peppery,  and  old  and  easily 
irritated;  I  'm  gouty,  and  frequently  grumpy; 
I  have  n't  much  control  over  my  temper,  and 
I  like  my  own  way.  But  I  'd  try  to  make 
you  happy.  I  think  that  's  all." 

He  moved,  still  stiffly,  away  from  her  and 
she  watched  him  in  silence,  still,  quite  uncon- 
sciously, rubbing  her  hands  up  and  down  the 
arms  of  her  chair.  She  was  touched,  stirred 
by  an  odd  flutter  of  compassion  and  sympathy. 
His  manner  of  dealing  with  the  situation  had 
surprised  and  relieved  her.  She  regarded  him 
with  more  of  kindliness  in  this  moment  than 
she  had  ever  known  for  him  before.  And  he 


102  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

had  made  her  sorry  for  him.  He  was  lonely; 
and  Lee  understood  loneliness. 

Abruptly,  impulsively,  she  got  to  her  feet. 
He  turned  at  the  movement  and  met  her  eyes. 
Again  the  smoky  blur  of  the  glasses  hid  from 
her  their  expression,  but  her  face  grew  flushed 
anew.  Mr.  Smithers  smiled. 

"  Well?"  he  asked  quietly.  "  Do  you  think 
you  can  bring  yourself  to  say  yes?" 

Lee  stood  very  still.  Troubled,  undecided, 
she  stared  back  at  him,  weighing  all  that  he 
had  said — hesitating,  shrinking — bewildered 
by  her  own  unsure  emotions.  And  then, 
across  the  silence  there  came  the  distant 
sound  of  Teresa's  voice.  It  rose  peevishly, 
upon  a  complaining,  plaintive  note — and  Lee 
drew  a  sudden,  sharp  breath. 

Then,  quickly,  she  crossed  the  room  to 
Jason  Smithers's  side. 

"  Yes/"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  IX 

LEE  married  Jason  Smithers  one  month  later. 
Somewhat  to  her  astonishment,  and  not  alto- 
gether in  accordance  with  her  own  desire,  the 
old  man  insisted  upon  a  wedding  of  conven- 
tional type.  He  explained  somewhat  drily 
that  while  he  did  not  desire  a  farcical  "  show," 
he  objected  to  an  unnecessarily  "  quiet  "  cere- 
mony. He  was  proud  of  his  good  fortune; 
proud  of  the  woman  who  was  to  be  his  wife; 
he  desired  all  the  rest  of  the  world  that  mat- 
tered to  be  aware  of  it. 

He  upheld  Terry  in  her  insistence  upon 
acting  as  bridesmaid.  He  invited  all  such 
friends  and  acquaintances  as  he  had  made  in 
England  since  his  arrival.  He  made  it  plain 
to  Lee  that  he  hoped  to  see  her  friends  also, 
and  he  was  irascibly  annoyed  at  her  sugges- 
tion that  she  should  be  married  in  a  travelling 
costume. 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear! "  he  urged.  "  You  '11 
make  a  charming  bride — a  charming  bride! 
I  want  you  to  look  the  part!" 

There  had  been  a  note  of  command  beneath 


104  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

the  courteous  plea,  which  Lee  had  caught  and 
resented,  without  resisting.  She  had  made  no 
further  protest,  but  had  shrugged  and  yielded. 

Terry,  observing  her  closely  during  that 
month,  had  not  quite  known  what  to  make  of 
her.  Lee  was,  in  some  ways,  considerably 
changed.  Undemonstrative  as  ever,  she  was 
not  so  cold.  It  was  as  though  the  knowledge 
that  the  time  was  near  at  hand  when  she 
would,  more  or  less,  be  her  own  mistress,  had 
thawed  and  softened  her. 

And  since  that  interview  with  Jason  Smith- 
ers  upon  which  he  had  made  clear  to  her 
his  attitude  towards  her,  and  just  how  much 
he  expected  at  her  hands,  her  regard  for  him 
had  deepened. 

He  never  thrust  himself  upon  her,  but  he 
made  it  clear  that  she  was  always  in  his 
thoughts,  he  was  considerate,  kindly,  and  care- 
ful in  no  way  to  startle  or  distress  her.  The 
relations  between  them  grew  solidly  friendly 
some  time  before  the  day  upon  which  the 
ceremony  was  to  take  place. 

Terry  came  to  the  conclusion  finally  that 
Lee  was  really  happy,  and  marvelled  there- 
upon, at  first  in  secret,  then  openly. 

"  I  can't  understand  it!"  she  declared  once, 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   105 

when  the  wedding  day  was  so  near  that  the 
little  flat  was  in  confusion  and  innumerable 
bags  and  boxes  littered  Lee's  room.  "  I  think 
I  'm  the  most  surprised  person  of  all! — count- 
ing Teresa  out!  I  fully  expected  you  to  be 
moving  about  like  a  martyr,  colder  and 
silenter,  and  more  stand-offish  than  ever! 
I  Ve  imagined  you  walking  up  the  aisle  like  a 
marble  image,  and  making  your  responses  in 
a  voice  that  would  freeze  boiling  lard!  I  Ve 
even  stayed  awake  at  nights  wondering  if  you 
were  fretting  in  that  funny,  chilly  way  of 
yours.  And  here  you  are,  laughing,  criticising 
gowns,  making  plans  and  trotting  here,  there, 
and  everywhere  with  Papa  Smithers,  for  all 
the  world  as  though  you  really  enjoyed  it!  I 
believe  you  're  happy,  Lee!" 

Lee  did  not  answer  for  a  moment.  Then, 
suddenly  and  charmingly,  she  smiled. 

"  I  'm  happier,"  she  declared  with  convic- 
tion, "  than  I  Ve  ever  been  since — since  my 
father  married.  It  's  almost  as  if  I  had  him 
back  again." 

"  Humph! "  Terry  eyed  her  shrewdly,  and 
then  grinned.  "  Poor  old  Smithy!"  she  cried 
audaciously.  "  It  strikes  me  he  's  losing  his 
freedom  to  gain  a  daughter!" 


106  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

She  saw  Lee's  quick  flush,  and,  springing 
up,  flung  an  arm  over  her  shoulders. 

"  There!  Don't  wither  me,  even  if  I 
deserve  it.  I  really  am  glad  you  're  feeling  as 
you  do.  You  Ve  had  the  very  dickens  of  a 
time  with  Teresa — and  Jason  may  be  a  bit  of 
a  bear  sometimes,  but  he  's  got  a  jolly  good 
heart!  You  may  count  yourself  lucky.  And 
he  's  as  generous  as  they  make  'em.  Lee,  do 
you  know  what  my  bridesmaid's  present  is? 
A  car  of  my  own — a  Rolls-Royce!  And  7  am 
going  to  drive  you  down  to  Brookbridge  for 
your  honeymoon  and  return  under  the  escort 
of  the  estimable  Haines!  How  do  you  like 
the  idea?" 

Lee  shrugged,  then  laughed.  Her  eyes 
warmed  to  a  quick  affection  as  they  rested  on 
the  flushed,  freckled  face.  Then  she  slid 
from  beneath  the  encircling  arm  and  began 
taking  down  her  hair.  She  did  not  answer, 
and  Terry  proceeded,  balancing  herself  on  the 
bed-rail  and  swinging  her  legs: 

"  He  says  he  wants  you  to  have  me  with 
you  quite  a  lot — so  you  won't  be  lonely.  And 
the  stables  at  Brookbridge  are  a  dream — 
Jason  's  never  seen  you  on  a  horse,  has  he? 
You  '11  knock  him  endways  when  he  does. 
Dash!  That  's  Teresa—" 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   107 

She  was  gone  with  a  grimace  and  a  scowl. 
Lee  looked  after  her,  then  brought  her  glance 
back  to  the  mirror. 

"  Yes,"  she  murmured,  unconsciously  speak- 
ing aloud,  "  I  really  am  happy!  And — I 
think  I  'm  quite  as  surprised  at  it  as  is  Terry! " 

Terry,  as  chauffeuse,  was  in  her  element 
upon  the  all-important  morning  of  the  wed- 
ding. She  whirled  the  newly  married  pair 
down  to  the  unpretentious  but  charming  house 
Jason  Smithers  had  taken  at  Brookbridge,  on 
the  fringe  of  the  Surrey  hills,  in  record  time. 
She  chattered  enthusiastically  to  the  silent 
Haines  all  through  the  journey,  and,  by  some 
miracle,  succeeded  in  reaching  her  destination 
with  herself  and  her  passengers  unscathed. 

She  made  up  for  their  silence  during 
luncheon,  spent  an  ecstatic  afternoon  in 
the  stables,  enthused  joyously  over  Lee's 
new  abode,  and  departed  towards  dusk.  Lee 
and  she  had  taken  tea  in  the  latter's  boudoir, 
and  for  a  little  while  after  she  had  gone, 
the  older  girl  sat  with  half-closed  eyes,  trying 
to  realise  that  she  had  indeed  burned  her 
boats  behind  her. 

She  had  not  seen  Jason  since  lunch,  when 


108   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

he  had  retired,  on  Frost's  arm,  to  the  library. 
Now,  as  she  dressed  for  dinner,  she  smiled  to 
herself  half  whimsically,  yet  with  the  shadow 
of  a  frown  between  her  brows. 

She  made  a  very  careful  toilet,  pausing  in 
the  middle  of  it  to  glance  towards  the  window 
at  the  sound  of  a  car  in  the  drive  below.  It 
stopped  at  the  house,  and  later  she  heard  it 
slurring  away  towards  the  gates  of  the  short 
drive. 

When,  presently,  she  descended  the  shallow 
oak  stairs  she  found  Frost  awaiting  her.  He 
bowed,  and  made  a  little  gesture  towards  the 
dining-room. 

"  Dinner  is  served,  ma'am,"  he  murmured. 
"  Mr.  Smithers  desired  me  to  tender  you  his 
most  sincere  apologies,  and  to  tell  you  that  he 
had  been  unexpectedly  summoned  to  Oak- 
bridge,  a  village  only  a  few  miles  from  here, 
ma'am.  The  matter  is  important  and  cannot 
be  ignored,  and  he  begs  that  you  will  under- 
stand. He  hopes  to  be  home  in  a  few  hours, 
but  begs  that  you  will  not  wait  for  him.  Will 
you  take  dinner  now,  ma'am?" 

For  a  moment  Lee  stared,  flushed,  bewil- 
dered, and  utterly  taken  aback.  She  was 
conscious  of  a  strange  mingling  of  chagrin, 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE    109 

anger,  and  amusement — then,  against  her 
will,  she  laughed. 

She  partook  of  her  meal  alone,  but  with 
enjoyment.  Her  surroundings  were  delight- 
ful, soothing,  peaceful,  and  involuntarily  as 
she  left  the  table  and  passed  into  the  smaller 
drawing-room,  with  its  big  hearth,  she  drew  a 
deep  sigh  that  had  in  it  an  immensity  of  satis- 
faction and  appreciation.  For  an  hour  she 
dreamed,  for  a  little  longer  tried  to  read. 
Then  she  went  upstairs  to  her  own  apart- 
ments. She  lingered  over  her  toilet,  and  it 
was  fairly  late  when  at  last  she  found  herself 
in  bed,  and  with  a  tired  sigh  she  fell  almost 
immediately  asleep. 

It  was  perhaps  two  hours  later  that  she 
awoke,  clearly  and  abruptly,  wide-eyed,  and 
with  a  queer  consciousness  of  some  disturbing 
sound.  She  sat  up  among  her  pillows,  listen- 
ing. The  sound  came  again — the  faint  scrape 
of  a  window  gently  shutting,  that  soft  tread 
of  cautious  feet  past  her  door.  She  heard  the 
stairs  creak — heard  a  movement  in  the  room 
below  her,  and  shivered  suddenly,  more  from 
excitement  than  fear.  After  an  instant's  hesi- 
tation she  glanced  at  the  illuminated  clock  by 
her  side.  It  was  three  in  the  morning,  and 


110  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

upon  an  impulse  she  slipped  out  of  bed.  There 
was  another  stir  from  the  room  immediately 
below  her,  and  she  stood  for  a  moment 
frowning. 

Then,  in  the  darkness,  she  felt  for  and 
found  a  long  silk  wrapper,  and,  pulling  it  round 
her,  gently  opened  the  door.  Silently,  swift 
as  a  shadow,  she  ran  down  the  stairs.  The 
room  immediately  beneath  hers  was,  she  had 
already  discovered,  the  library.  She  turned 
towards  it  now.  The  door  was  partly  ajar, 
and  a  faint  light  shone  through. 

Again  she  hesitated,  then  moved  lightly 
across  the  hall  till  she  stood  on  the  threshold. 
Very  gently  she  pushed  the  door  wider.  By 
one  of  the  long  windows  a  man  was  standing. 
A  cap  was  pulled  down  over  his  eyes,  a  long 
coat  hid  his  figure,  but  a  swift,  searching 
glance  told  her  that  he  was  not  Jason  Smithers 
or  Frost.  And,  before  she  fully  realised  what 
she  was  doing,  she  reached  out  and  touched 
the  electric  switch,  flooding  the  room  with  light. 

And  then,  with  a  smothered  cry,  she 
dropped  her  arm.  The  man  at  the  window  had 
turned  sharply.  In  the  dazzling  glow  from 
the  electric  bulbs  their  eyes  met,  and  Lee  gave 
a  sudden,  choked  gasp. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   111 

Under  the  cap-brim  a  very  brown  face 
showed  clear.  A  pair  of  blue,  pleasant,  star- 
tled eyes  met  hers — the  eyes  of  the  man  of 
Ruff's  Island — the  eyes  of  Denham  Carson, 
the  murderer. 


CHAPTER  X 

TERRY,  whistling  the  "  Wedding  March " 
shrilly  and  exuberantly,  guided  the  big  new  car 
skilfully  through  the  tricksy  lanes  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  Brookbridge,  only  slow- 
ing the  pace  reluctantly  when  at  length  she 
came  into  the  more  busy  thoroughfares. 

At  her  side,  alert  and  watchful,  Haines  sat. 
He  made  no  attempt  at  interference;  Terry 
was  already  fully  capable  of  managing  any 
car,  and  had  proved  an  intelligent  and  apt 
pupil  of  whom  her  teacher  was  openly  proud. 
If  she  possessed  the  fault  of  over-much  daring 
at  times,  Haines,  being  young  and  reckless 
himself,  condoned  it  secretly,  though  he  made 
a  pretence  at  protest  which  deceived  Terry 
not  at  all. 

Terry  liked  Haines.  He  was  young,  and 
enthusiastic,  and  distinctly  more  human  than 
any  of  the  other  servants  in  the  Smithers 
menage.  Indeed,  there  were  times  when  she 
quite  forgot  he  was  a  servant.  He  could  talk 
interestingly  upon  other  subjects  besides  auto- 
mobiles and  the  way  to  drive  them.  Having 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   113 

discovered  this,  Terry  encouraged  him  to  do 
so,  and  found  her  enjoyment  of  her  lessons 
added  to  thereby. 

In  the  commencement  of  those  lessons, 
Frost,  wooden,  silent  and  attentive,  had  inva- 
riably accompanied  them.  During  the  last 
month,  however,  the  exigencies  of  the  many 
preparations  for  his  master's  coming  marriage 
had  claimed  him;  a  fact  which  Terry  found 
rather  a  relief.  Frost  was  an  excellent  person, 
but  a  trifle  apt  to  insist  deferentially  upon  his 
master's  instructions  with  regard  to  the  daily 
drive  being  carried  out  to  the  letter.  With 
Haines  Terry  knew  that  she  could  have  her 
own  way  entirely;  nor  did  she  fail  to  take  it. 

The  excitement  of  Lee's  approaching  wed- 
ding palled  upon  her  very  soon,  and  she  took 
advantage  of  it  to  enjoy  more  time  with  her 
beloved  animals,  or  in  one  or  other  of  the 
cars.  If  her  absences  grew  longer,  the  fact 
was  unnoticed  now.  The  hour's  drive  was 
frequently  lengthened  to  two,  sometimes  even 
to  three.  Haines  shared  her  love  of  animals 
and  out  of  doors.  He  became  more  and  more 
communicative,  and  achieved  an  unshakably 
high  place  in  her  estimation  when  he  pulled 
the  Pom  through  a  serious  gastric  attack 


114  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

which  Terry  had  distractedly  decided  would 
prove  fatal. 

So  that,  on  the  whole,  through  this  last 
month  Terry  had  enjoyed  herself  more  than 
ever  she  had  in  her  life,  and  had  known 
more  of  companionship  as  well  as  of  freedom. 

To-night,  except  for  her  piercing,  boyish 
whistling,  she  was  silent.  She  was  absorbed 
in  recollections  of  the  day's  doings,  more 
especially  of  Mr.  Smithers's  stables.  She 
broke  off  in  the  middle  of  the  "  Wedding 
March  "  to  inquire  of  Haines  if  he  had  seen 
them. 

"  The  horses  are  gems!"  she  declared. 
"  Especially  the  red  mare  which  is  Miss  Lee's 
— I  mean  Mrs.  Smithers's.  Lord!  What  a 
very  unattractive  name  Smithers  is,  to  be 
sure!  Mine  's  a  black — the  one  I  'm  to  learn 
to  ride  on,  I  mean.  I  wonder  who  '11  teach 
me.  I  'm  going  back  to  Brookbridge  in  a 
fortnight  to  stay  for  a  while,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  miss.  Keep  a  little  more  to  the  left, 
Miss  Terry,  there  's  not  much  room  just  here 
between  the  tram  lines  and  the  kerb — 
Steady!" 

Terry  had  steered  obediently  but  recklessly 
to  the  left,  with  the  result  that  her  mudguard 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   115 

came  raspingly  in  contact  with  a  lamp-post, 
and  Haines  stiffened  alertly  in  his  seat.  But 
with  a  superb  disregard  of  possible  damage 
the  girl  proceeded  to  guide  the  car  on  to  a 
more  even  course  and  went  on. 

"  I  only  saw  the  head  groom,  and  he  does 
n't  look  as  though  he  'd  be  a  very  inspiring 
teacher!  He  looks  like  Lester  in  the  Arca- 
dians!" 

Haines  grinned. 

"  Yes,  miss.  But  I  expect  I  shall  teach 
you,  miss.  Mr.  Smithers  said  something 
about  it  only  this  afternoon.  I  Ve  a  pretty 
fair  knowledge  of  horses,  and  I  think  you  '11 
like  the  little  black.  She  '11  carry  you  nicely." 

"  You!"  Terry  widened  her  eyes  and  peered 
up  at  him  as  well  as  she  might  in  the  gather- 
ing darkness.  "  Gracious!  What  a  very 
versatile  person  you  are,  Haines!" 

She  studied  him  with  a  new  interest,  ap- 
provingly. In  his  neat  chocolate  livery, 
sitting  very  straight  and  upright,  he  looked 
wiry  and  capable,  and  rather  remarkably 
pleasant.  He  spoke  again  as  she  turned  the 
car  into  one  of  the  wide  roads  crossing  Ham 
Common. 

"  If  you  're  meaning  to  drive  through  the 


116  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Park,  Miss  Terry,  you  '11  have  to  let  her  out  a 
bit.  It  's  longer  that  way,  and  I  Ve  got  to 
get  back  to  Brookbridge  to-night." 

"To-night!"  Terry's  voice  was  a  little 
blank.  "  Why,  Haines !  If  you  're  going 
back  to  Brookbridge,  how  about  my  lessons?" 

Haines  was  looking  straight  before  him. 
He  spoke  with  well- trained  expressionlessness. 

"  You  '11  not  be  needing  lessons  any  longer, 
Miss  Terry.  It  's  only  practice  you  're  need- 
ing now.  And  Butler  is  in  charge  of  the  town 
garage.  You  '11  find  him  very  efficient, 
miss." 

"  But — "  She  stopped  abruptly,  conscious 
of  and  amazed  at  a  disappointment  out  of 
all  proportion  to  its  cause.  Almost  involun- 
tarily she  increased  the  speed,  racing  through 
the  silent  park,  and  thrilling  as  the  car  leaped 
forward.  Mentally  she  decided  unkindly  to 
give  the  estimable  Butler,  who  was  Scotch  and 
dour  and  cautious,  a  few  sharp  jolts. 

They  passed  out  of  the  park  and  reached 
the  ridge  of  Richmond  Hill.  Without  slow- 
ing up,  she  let  the  Rolls-Royce  sweep  giddily 
down  it,  and  drew  up  with  a  jar  and  a  jerk 
halfway  along  the  narrow  main  street.  A 
newly  decorated  hotel  in  a  short  side  street 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   117 

flung  inviting  lights  through  the  gloom.  Terry 
began  to  loosen  her  coat-collar,  and  free  her- 
self of  the  thick  rugs  about  her  knees. 

"  I  'm  hungry,"  she  announced.  "  I  think 
I  shall  have  some  dinner  here,  and  go  on  to 
town  later,  Haines."  She  wriggled  free  of  the 
rugs  and  made  a  movement  to  rise,  then 
stared  With  raised  brows  at  the  chauffeur  as 
he  did  not  stir.  "  You  can  bring  the  car  back 
here  in  forty  minutes,"  she  added  as  she  stood 
up. 

Raines's  face  was  utterly  blank.  He  looked 
for  a  moment  at  her  stupidly,  as  though  he 
had  not  heard  aright.  Then  mechanically  he 
rose  to  let  her  pass  him,  but  instead  of  de- 
scending and  opening  the  door  for  her,  slid 
into  the  seat  which  had  been  hers.  As  he 
realised  that  she  was  quite  in  earnest,  his  eyes 
changed  a  trifle,  grew  intent,  hardened. 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Terry,"  —  he  spoke 
quickly,  with  his  habitual  quiet  deference, — 
"  but  I  don't  think  you  can  do  that.  I  mean 
— Mr.  Smithers  was  very  particular  that  I 
should  get  you  home  and  the  car  safely 
garaged  before — " 

"  Hang  Mr.  Smithers!"  Terry  retorted 
indignantly  and  inelegantly.  "  It  's  nothing 


118  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

to  do  with  him  where  I  choose  to  dine  or  when 
I  get  back.  The  car  's  mine,  anyway.  While 
you  're  driving  it,  Haines,  you  '11  take  my 
orders." 

There  was  a  rather  odd  expression  in 
Raines's  eyes  as  they  rested  on  her.  For  all 
her  happy-go-lucky  carelessness  of  conven- 
tions and  appearances,  Terry  could,  when  the 
need  arose,  be  very  much  upon  her  dignity. 
She  spoke  now  coldly,  incisively;  there  was  a 
rebuke  in  her  voice  beneath  which  the  chauf- 
feur flushed. 

He  stirred  a  little  uncomfortably. 

"  I  'm  afraid,"  he  said  rather  hesitantly, 
and  with  real  reluctance,  "  in — in  this  partic- 
ular case  I  can't,  Miss  Terry.  Mr.  Smithers's 
orders  were  imperative — to  see  you  direct  to 
your  home,  and  to  return  to  Brookbridge  at 
once.  Besides,  he  would  be  very  much  put 
about  at  the  idea  of  you  dining  alone  in  a 
Richmond  hotel,  miss." 

Terry  began  to  lose  her  always  somewhat 
fiery  temper.  Two  brilliant  sparks  of  anger 
lit  her  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Smithers  did  not  marry  me  as  well  as 
my  sister!"  she  retorted.  "  And  because  he 
has  given  me  a  car  and  lent  me  his  chauffeur, 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   119 

he  must  not  expect  to  either  control  my 
actions  or  interfere  with  my  inclinations 
through  that  chauffeur.  Open  the  door, 
Haines,  please." 

Haines  stooped  forward  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  door,  but  he  did  not  open  it.  His 
mouth  was  set  obstinately,  though  his  voice 
was  still  deprecating  when  he  answered  her. 

"  I  'm  sorry,  Miss  Terry.  It  's  imperative 
I  should  get — we  should  get  to  town  as 
quickly  as  possible.  Besides  which,  I  am, 
up  to  a  point,  responsible  for  you.  It  would 
be  very  undesirable  for  you  to  go  into  that 
hotel  alone.  I — er — I  could  n't  let  you  do  it, 
even  apart  from  Mr.  Smithers's  orders." 

"  Let  me  do  it!"  With  a  sudden  move- 
ment, flushed,  quivering,  and  more  angry  than 
she  remembered  ever  being,  the  girl  stooped 
and  wrenched  open  the  door.  "  I  shall  do 
exactly  as  I  please,  Haines!  The  sooner  you 
understand  that  the  better!" 

She  stepped  out  quickly,  but  the  chauffeur 
was  quicker.  His  arm  closed  round  her. 
Before  she  realised  it,  she  was  lifted  back  into 
the  seat  beside  him,  and  at  the  same  moment 
the  car  leaped  forward.  She  struggled, 
passionately,  furiously,  but  she  was  helpless. 


120  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Haines  held  her,  driving  with  his  left  hand 
until  they  were  spinning  rapidly  along  the 
Kew  Road.  Then  he  released  her.  And  as 
she  found  herself  free,  Terry's  rage  flared, 
utterly  uncontrolled.  Lifting  her  hand  she 
struck  him  with  all  her  force  across  the  face. 

For  just  an  instant  the  grey  eyes,  looking 
straightly  out  from  beneath  the  peaked  cap- 
brim,  hardened  to  steel.  But  the  set  mouth 
did  not  unclose,  nor,  for  one  instant,  did  the 
strong  hands  upon  the  wheel  waver. 

At  their  destination  he  alighted  swiftly, 
opened  the  door,  and  drew  the  rugs  from 
about  Terry's  knees.  As  she  stepped  down 
into  the  road  he  touched  his  cap  silently,  and 
again  her  anger  flamed. 

"  I  will  give  my  orders  concerning  the  car 
to  Butler  to-morrow,"  she  said.  "  You, 
Haines,  have  forgotten  yourself  unpardon- 
ably." 

Haines's  finger  went  to  his  cap  again. 

"  Yes,  miss,"  he  returned  meekly,  and  re- 
mained motionless  as  she  turned  away. 

But  her  glance  had  caught  the  darkening 
wheal  across  his  cheek,  and  at  the  entrance 
to  the  flat  she  hesitated.  Then,  impulsively, 
she  turned  and  went  back  to  him.  Her  head 


was  held  high,  her  cheeks  aflame,  and  her 
eyes  were  brilliant  and  defiant.  But  they  met 
his  levelly. 

"  So  did  I,  Haines!"  she  said  clearly.  "  I 
beg  your  pardon!" 

Haines's  cap  was  swept  suddenly  to  his 
knee,  revealing  a  curly  fair  head  and  a  face  as 
deeply  flushed  as  Terry's  was  pale.  His  own 
eyes  warmed,  smiled.  Beneath  them  Terry's 
face  grew  unexpectedly  hot. 

"Forget  it,  miss!"  said  Haines.  And  for 
many  minutes  after  she  had  disappeared  he 
stood  bareheaded  by  the  car,  his  eyes  on  the 
dark  door  that  had  swallowed  her. 

From  among  the  spare  rugs  thrown  loosely 
on  the  seats  inside  the  car  something  stirred 
and  a  hand  reached  out  stealthily  to  open  the 
door.  A  man,  wearing  a  cap  pulled  low  over 
his  eyes  and  a  white  muffler  close  up  about  his 
chin,  stepped  silently  out  on  the  roadside.  He 
left  the  door  swinging  and  moved  rapidly  away. 
But  at  the  corner  of  the  street  he  looked  back, 
and  chuckled.  Haines  was  still  looking  at 
the  entrance  to  the  flats  with  his  cap  hang- 
ing loosely  in  his  hand. 


CHAPTER  XI 

BEREFT  of  the  power  of  either  speech  or 
movement,  Lee  stood  staring  dumbly  into 
Denham  Carson's  startled  eyes.  Her  heart 
was  pounding  wildly,  suffocatingly;  utter  be- 
wilderment was  upon  her. 

For  an  instant  Carson  had  been  as  taken 
aback  as  she;  but  only  for  an  instant.  The 
next  he  was  at  her  side ;  a  long,  strong  brown 
hand  closed  upon  her  wrist,  pulling  her 
almost  roughly  across  the  threshold  into  the 
room.  Then  he  released  her,  the  door  was 
jerked  shut  with  a  soft  click,  and  he  stood 
facing  her  with  his  back  to  it. 

Lee  caught  her  wrap  more  closely  round 
her  and  laid  a  not  very  steady  hand  upon  the 
back  of  the  nearest  chair.  Her  lips  were 
trembling  a  little,  her  eyes  were  frightened. 
They  clung  to  the  lean,  brown  face,  rather 
set  now,  and  hard,  searching,  questioning. 
Her  breath  still  came  rather  gaspingly. 

Denham  Carson  smiled  suddenly — that 
quick,  boyish  smile  which  she  had  found  so 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   123 

disarming  and  so  reassuring  when  first  she 
had  seen  it.  It  brought  with  it  a  poignant 
stab  of  memory,  and  the  colour  flooded  her 
face  in  a  hot  wave.  Some  of  the  fear  left  her 
eyes  and  a  half-scornful  anger  took  its  place; 
the  soft  lips  shut  abruptly  in  a  straight  line. 

She  was  beginning  to  recover  herself,  and 
she  made  a  quick,  half-nervous  gesture,  speak- 
ing at  last,  rather  jerkily. 

"  What  does  this  mean?"  she  asked. 
"  What  are  you  doing  here?  How  did  you 
get  here?" 

Carson  made  a  deprecating  movement  of 
his  broad  shoulders. 

"  Through  the  upstairs  hall- window,  via 
the  verandah  pillar  and  a  remarkably  strong 
vinel  The  invitation  was  Impossible  to  resist. 
I  hoped  I  had  not  disturbed  any  one." 

He  was  bewilderingly  at  his  ease.  His  lack 
of  agitation  increased  her  own,  while  it  roused 
in  her  a  quick  gust  of  anger.  His  effrontery 
was  astounding,  and  she  reddened  anew. 

"  I  mean  " — she  flung  at  him  sharply — 
"  why  are  you  here?" 

She  spoke  without  lowering  her  voice,  and 
saw  a  faint  shadow  of  apprehension  cross  his 
eyes  as  he  glanced  behind  him  at  the  door. 


124  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Somehow  it  served  to  give  her  back  a  measure 
of  her  composure.  Turning,  she  crossed 
slowly  to  the  hearth.  The  electric  bell  was 
within  reach  of  her  hand,  and  again  the 
flicker  of  apprehension  showed  in  Carson's 
eyes  as  they  rested  upon  it.  But  he  spoke 
rather  softly,  quite  without  flurry  or  haste. 

"  Chiefly,"  he  told  her  in  answer  to  her 
question,  "  in  the  hope  of  finding  something 
to  eat  and  drink.  I  'm  rather  thirsty,  and 
quite  decidedly  hungry.  Fugitives  from  justice, 
you  know  " — his  voice  was  light,  but  there 
was  a  sudden  bitter  note  in  it — "  have  a 
fairly  strenuous  time  on  the  whole!  I  Ve 
found  to-day — in  particular  " — he  grinned 
unexpectedly,  with  a  gleam  in  his  eyes  that 
was  disconcertingly  mischievous — "  even  more 
than  usually  exciting!  There  's  been  mighty 
little  time  to  attend  to  the  inner  man,  I 
assure  you.  But  then,  that  's  generally  the 
way  at  weddings,  is  n't  it?" 

Lee  started  and  swung  round.  Her  eyes 
were  very  bright,  and  at  something  within 
them — something  of  shrinking  with  which 
was  mingled  defiance — Carson's  smile  died 
abruptly. 

"I  don't  understand!"     The  girl's  voice 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   125 

was  halting,  a  little  shaky.  "  You  don't — 
you  can't  mean  that  you — "  She  stopped. 

Carson  met  her  reluctant  glance  straightly. 
His  lips  twitched  again. 

"  That  I  witnessed  the  interesting  cere- 
mony? But  certainly.  I  would  n't  have 
missed  it  for  the  world!  Human  nature  's 
odd,  is  n't  it?  There  's  a  certain  fascination 
hi  looking  on  at  another  chap's  good  fortune 
— more  especially  when  one  's  utterly  down 
and  out.  I  suppose  that  's  why  gutter-kid- 
dies always  linger  outside  the  most  expensive 
toyshops!  Besides,  I  really  did  n't  believe 
you  'd  do  it!  I  thought  you  'd  funk  at  the 
last  minute ! " 

Lee  gasped.  A  sudden  fierce  anger  blazed 
in  her  eyes. 

"How  dare  you!"  she  said  in  a  stifled 
voice. 

Carson  regarded  her  gravely. 

"  I  did,  really,"  he  assured  her.  "  Of 
course,  I  have  not  forgotten  what  you  told 
me  about  yourself — your  life — that  night  on 
Ruff's  Island,  but  I  did  n't  credit  you  with  the 
courage  to  make  a  marriage  so  frankly  mer- 
cenary." 

Lee's  face  went  quite  white.    She  reached 


126  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

out  her  hand  impulsively  behind  her  to  the 
bell — then  drew  it  back.  She  spoke  after  a 
minute,  coldly,  very  quietly. 

"  Your  comments,"  she  informed  him  lev- 
elly,  "  are  impertinence  to  which  I  have  no 
intention  of  listening!  You  have  no  right  to 
make  them,  or  to  criticise — •" 

"Oh,  but  I  have!" 

Carson  left  the  door  suddenly  and  came 
across  to  her.  One  hand  was  thrust  idly  into 
his  pocket,  in  the  other  he  swung  his  cap. 
The  light  shone  upon  his  clean-cut  head,  the 
hair  no  longer  close-shaven,  but  grown  to 
abundance,  boyishly  curly.  Lee  rested  her 
eyes  upon  it,  and  turned  them  abruptly  away. 
Her  heart  was  stirring  strangely,  her  throat 
contracted.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if 
the  scent  of  wood-smoke,  and  sea  mist  was 
in  her  nostrils. 

"  I  have  the  greatest  right  of  all!"  Carson 
went  on.  "  The  right  of  a  man  who  loves 
you — and  who  has  been  the  first  to  kiss  your 
lips!" 

He  met  the  blaze  of  her  startled,  angry 
eyes  quietly,  even  seriously.  His  own  looked 
vividly  blue — bluer  because  of  the  deep  tan 
of  his  face — and  again,  in  spite  of  herself,  in 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   127 

spite  of  her  indignation,  Lee's  heart  fluttered 
and  stirred. 

She  was  dumb  for  a  moment;  then  she 
flung  out  her  hands. 

"You  're  mad!"  she  accused  him. 

He  chuckled  suddenly,  amusedly. 

"  I  'm  beginning  to  think  I  am!  If  I  were 
sane  I  surely  should  n't  indulge  in  such  ad- 
ventures as  weddings  and  wedding  journeys! 
But  all  dreamers  of  dreams  and  lovers  who 
are  very  much  in  love  are  mad,  are  n't  they? 
And — I  'm  both!  I  Ve  had  ample  time  for 
dreaming,  you  know  " — rather  grimly — "  and 
the  sweetest  of  them  has  been  the  dream  of 
riding  at  a  dream  woman's  side  on  her  wed- 
ding day.  Only  " — he  shrugged,  with  a  rather 
twisted  little  smile — "though  the  dream 
materialised  up  to  a  point,  circumstances 
somewhat  spoiled  the  illusion!  Such  a  jour- 
ney should  be  accomplished  openly,  not  in 
concealment." 

"  But  " — the  question  was  wrung  from  Lee 
in  sheer  amazement — "  you  can't  mean  that 
you  came  here  with  us — in  our  car?" 

Carson  laughed. 

"  Why  not?  It  was  a  big  enough  one  in 
all  conscience!  And  simply  piled  with  rugs! 


128  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Besides,  Brookbridge  is  nice  and  out  of  the 
beaten  track,  though  quite  conveniently  close 
to  town." 

He  was  leaning  against  the  mantelpiece 
now,  very  close  to  her.  Instinctively,  with  a 
breath-catching  in  her  throat,  she  moved  back 
a  little.  Carson  went  on  without  appearing 
to  notice. 

"  You  see,  I  was  beginning  to  suspect  that 
I  'd  been  spotted  in  London.  A  sojourn  in 
the  country  or  suburbs  is  desirable  for  a  week 
or  so;  and  I  knew  I  'd  never  be  suspected  of 
making  a  get-away  in  the  company  of  the 
newly  married  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smithers!  I 
reckoned  on  just  glimpsing  your  new  home, 
and  then  wandering  on  across  country  some- 
where. A  garage  is  quite  a  comfy  place  to 
take  a  nap  in,  I  assure  you,  and  on  the  whole 
I  Ve  had  quite  a  pleasant  time.  Only  " — 
he  laughed  again,  low  in  his  throat — "  I  'd 
forgotten  my  appetite !  I  like  food,  and  I  Ve 
had  precious  little  all  day!  You  can  under- 
stand now  the  temptation  of  that  open  hall 
window!" 

Lee  stirred,  but  she  did  not  speak.  He 
went  on,  conversationally. 

"  In  a  house  like  this  I  knew  there  'd  be 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   129 

sure  to  be  biscuits  and  drinks  around  in  either 
dining-  or  smoking-rooms — and  even  Osbornes 
appeal  to  a  desperately  hungry  man.  Of 
course  there  was  a  risk — but  seeing  you  has 
made  that  more  than  worth  while!" 

The  lightness,  almost  flippancy,  of  his 
voice  changed  to  an  unmistakable  sincerity. 
Under  his  steady  gaze  Lee's  dropped.  She 
was  shaken  and  bewildered,  and  completely 
at  a  loss  how  to  act;  she  found  the  whole 
situation  increasingly  difficult  to  cope  with. 
Carson's  serious  declaration  of  feeling  had 
invested  it  with  a  new  significance. 

Her  own  feelings  were  chaotic.  She  should 
have  known  for  him  shrinking,  horror,  even 
fear,  as  well  as  anger.  Yet  she  was  conscious 
of  none  of  these  things — not  even,  at  this 
moment,  the  anger.  His  voice  and  words 
had  touched  some  strange  chord  in  her  heart, 
had  again  thrust  memories — poignant  and 
undeniably  sweet — upon  her.  She  felt  in  the 
steady  regard  of  those  blue  eyes  the  same 
mute  caress  that  she  had  known  in  it  that 
night  upon  Ruff's  Island — was  aware  of  the 
same  flame  of  emotion  beneath  it. 

The  silence  between  them  lasted  a  long 
time.  Carson  broke  it. 


130  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  Well?"  he  asked.  His  voice  had  changed 
again,  was  curt,  rather  sharp.  Lee  looked 
up,  and  as  their  eyes  met  he  straightened  him- 
self. "  What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  added. 
"  You  know  who  I  am  now,  of  course.  You 
know  that  I  'm  hiding  from  justice.  The 
hand  of  every  man  is  against  me,  the  brand  of 
Cain  upon  me.  You  've  only  to  touch  that 
bell  and  bring  your  servants  upon  us.  I 
should  n't  attempt  to  escape,  since  I  know  I 
should  n't  have  a  chance.  Or — you  can  let 
me  go." 

Lee  drew  a  quick,  almost  painful  breath. 
Her  face  was  pale  now,  her  eyes  uncertain. 
She  stood  with  her  fingers  locked  tightly  to- 
gether up  against  her  throat,  her  lower  lip 
held  close  between  her  teeth. 

Again  Carson  spoke. 

"  It  may  influence  your  decision  if  I  tell 
you  that  I  am  absolutely  innocent  of  the 
crime  that  has  been  laid  at  my  door.  Of 
course  you  may  not  believe  me.  There  is  no 
reason  why  you  should." 

He  paused.  Once  more  Lee  drew  a  deep 
breath.  Her  eyes  were  upon  his,  searching, 
earnest.  He  met  them  levelly,  steadily — 
and  suddenly  she  let  her  hands  fall.  Yet 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   131 

still  her  whole  attitude  was  one  of  indecision. 

Carson  made  a  sudden,  shrugging  move- 
ment of  his  shoulders. 

"  Or,"  he  asked,  "  did  I  dare  too  much  at 
the  moment  of  good-bye  on  Ruff's  Island? 
Was  my  offence  so  great  that  you  are  unable 
to  resist  sinking  mercy  beneath  a  desire  for 
revenge?" 

He  watched  the  colour  flood  her  cheeks, 
mounting  to  the  very  temples,  sweeping  even 
over  the  white  throat.  Then,  meeting  the 
flash  of  her  eyes,  in  which  there  was  a  queer 
hurt  as  well  as  resentment,  he  flung  wide  his 
hands  in  a  gesture  of  appeal  and  apology. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  begged,  and  there  was 
a  new,  warm,  husky  note  in  his  voice.  "  That 
was  a  hateful  thing  to  say!" 

Lee  did  not  answer  him.  Very  quietly  she 
brushed  past  him  and  moved  to  the  door. 
But  even  as  she  reached  the  threshold,  she 
stopped  abruptly.  From  somewhere  outside 
there  came  the  sound  of  steps  on  the  gravel, 
the  muffled  sound  of  voices.  Through  the 
narrow  parting  of  the  heavy  blinds  there 
flashed  a  light.  Somewhere  in  the  house  itself 
there  was  a  stirring. 

Lee  let  her  outstretched  hand   fall,   and 


132   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

swung  round,  gasping.  Denham  Carson, 
grim-lipped,  had  already  sprung  for  the  win- 
dow; but  the  girl  stayed  him  with  a  quick, 
low  cry. 

"  No — no!  Whoever  is  out  there  is  on  the 
drive — and  they  Ve  got  a  light.  They  'd 
see  you — you  could  n't  get  away!" 

Her  voice  was  shaking.  Carson,  halting, 
turned  to  her  slowly.  His  face  was  very 
white;  his  eyes  were  aflame. 

"  Damn!"  he  whispered,  very  softly,  just 
above  his  breath.  Then  he  lifted  his  arms 
and  let  them  fall  limply.  The  gesture  was 
eloquent  of  hopelessness;  beneath  the  gleam 
of  his  blue  eyes  there  was  a  bitter  despair 
that  made  Lee  put  her  hand  quickly  to  her 
throat.  Then,  suddenly,  she  reached  out 
behind  her  and  turned  the  knob.  Her  own 
eyes  were  as  brilliant  as  his  now,  her  lips 
were  quivering. 

"  Go  this  way!"  she  commanded  impera- 
tively. "  Upstairs!  There  are  no  servants  in 
this  wing — not  even  my  maid.  You  can  get 
out  through  my  room — it  's  just  above  this — 
and  there  's  a  balcony  outside  the  window 
that  runs  all  round  the  wing!  Be  quick!" 

She  pulled  the  door  open  as  she  spoke. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   133 

The  light  flooding  from  the  room  showed  the 
shallow,  thickly  carpeted  staircase.  Steps 
sounded  in  the  house,  but  they  were  distant; 
the  swinging  light  from  without  shone 
through  the  crack  in  the  curtain  again.  In  a 
flash  Carson  had  passed  her,  and  as  she  heard 
him  running  up  the  stairs  she  leaned  for  a 
moment  weakly  against  the  door. 

But  she  had  no  time  for  analysis  of  either 
her  actions  or  her  feelings.  The  steps  outside 
were  close  to  the  window  now.  Those  within 
the  house  were  hurrying  nearer  to  the  room. 

For  an  instant  Lee  hesitated,  then  she 
crossed  the  room  and  pulled  aside  the  cur- 
tains. 

A  moment  later  she  had  unlatched  the 
window.  One  of  the  grooms  came  forward 
eagerly,  then  drew  back  at  sight  of  her, 
making  a  quick  salute,  just  as  Frost  came 
hurrying  into  the  room. 

Lee  was  conscious  of  a  swift  relief  at  sight 
of  him.  The  groom  spoke  quickly,  almost 
apologetically. 

"  Beg  pardon,  ma'am — but  we  thought  we 
heard  some  one  monkeyin'  round  outside  the 
stables — and  then  we  saw  the  lights  down 
here  an'  came  along — " 


134  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

He  met  Frost's  eye  and  paused.  Lee 
laughed  a  little  shakily. 

"I  heard  a  sound,  too!"  she  explained. 
"  That 's  why  I  came  down!  I  was  frightened 
— but  if  there  was  any  one  here  he — they — 
must  have  gone  before  I  got  down.  I — " 

She  broke  off.  Frost's  quiet  eyes  were 
upon  her.  They  were  as  expressionless  as 
ever,  yet  somehow  she  felt  herself  flushing 
slowly,  guiltily,  beneath  them,  while  she  was 
impelled  away  from  the  window  and  towards 
the  door. 

Frost  made  a  slight  inclination  of  his  head. 
His  voice  was  reassuringly  respectful  when  he 
spoke. 

"  I  think  there  is  no  need  for  alarm,  ma'am. 
I  will  see  to  it  that  the  house  is  thoroughly 
searched — as  quietly  as  possible.  Mr.  Smith- 
ers  is  a  trifle  unwell,  ma'am,  and  is  only  just 
gone  to  sleep;  it  would  be  better  not  to 
disturb  him.  You  can  leave  things  quite 
safely  with  me,  ma'am." 

Lee  accepted  the  information  gratefully, 
and  hurried  out  of  the  room.  She  was  tingling 
all  over,  still  bewildered,  scared,  and  more 
agitated  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life. 
At  the  open  hall  window  she  paused,  leaning 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   135 

against  it  for  a  moment  and  drinking  in 
thirstily  the  crisp,  cold  air. 

She  was  utterly  weary,  the  whole  day  had 
been  trying  in  the  extreme,  and  her  head  was 
throbbing  painfully.  In  spite  of  the  cold  the 
night  air  was  refreshing,  and  she  was  too 
restless  to  go  to  bed — too  uncertain  of  how 
Denham  Carson  had  managed  to  make  his 
escape. 

She  waited,  drooping  against  the  casement, 
by  the  window,  listening  to  the  murmur  of 
voices  below  stairs,  watching,  presently,  the 
firefly-like  flicker  of  lanterns  across  the  lawns 
and  through  the  shrubberies.  From  some- 
where on  the  distant  road  there  came  the 
slurring  hum  of  a  car — an  owl  hooted  sleepily. 

At  last,  with  a  little  sigh,  and  shivering,  she 
straightened  herself.  Softly  she  padded  up 
the  remaining  stairs  and  along  the  corridor  to 
her  room,  groping  for  the  handle. 

As  she  passed  through  the  door  and  closed 
it  behind  her,  she  stifled  a  sudden  cry  and 
stood  rigid.  At  the  farther  end  of  the  room, 
by  one  of  the  windows,  a  shadowy  figure 
stirred.  Denham  Carson's  voice,  whispering, 
reassuring,  came  through  the  darkness;  in  a 
moment  she  found  him  at  her  side. 


136  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  Hush!  It  's  all  right!"  he  declared.  "  I 
could  n't  go — not  till  I  'd  seen  you  again.  I 
want  to  know  why  you  Ve  done  this  for  me?" 

Lee  gave  a  smothered  exclamation. 

"  But  you  are  utterly  mad!"  she  whispered 
back  fiercely. 

She  started  away  as  she  felt  his  hands  grope 
for  hers,  but  he  was  too  quick;  his  fingers 
closed  tightly  about  her  wrists.  She  strove 
for  a  second  to  free  herself,  then  stood  very 
still. 

Carson  bent  his  head  down  close  to  hers. 

"  Why  did  you?"  he  asked.  "  Why  did 
you?" 

She  caught  the  insistence  of  his  voice,  a 
throbbing  note  of  passion  in  it;  her  captured 
hands  were  touching  his  breast,  and  she  could 
feel  the  beating  of  his  heart  beneath  them. 

She  stood  for  a  moment  thus,  her  head  flung 
back,  her  lips  apart.  Then  she  wrenched 
unexpectedly  free.  She  was  trembling  a  little, 
and  in  the  darkness  her  eyes  shone  strangely. 
For  a  few,  pulsing  seconds  she  did  not  speak. 
It  was  as  though  she  found  great  difficulty  in 
choosing  her  words;  when  they  came,  it  was 
haltingly,  a  trifle  breathlessly: 

"  Because,"  she  said,  and  flung  an  arm 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   137 

towards  the  window,  "  I  suppose — /  am  mad, 
too!  Now  go!" 

In  the  darkness  Carson  laughed.  There 
was  something  in  the  sound  that  made  Lee 
catch  her  hands  up  to  her  face,  even  though 
she  knew  he  could  not  see  her.  Through  her 
interlaced  fingers  she  saw  the  indistinct  figure 
lean  towards  her. 

"  That  's  not  the  only  reason,"  he  asserted 
confidently;  and  laughed  again — an  odd,  low, 
gentle  laugh  that  still  had  in  it  something  of 
triumph. 

Then  he  straightened  himself,  moved  away 
from  her,  and  a  moment  later  stood  silhouet- 
ted against  the  window.  He  pushed  it  open 
soundlessly,  and  stepped  over  the  low  sill. 
From  the  other  side  he  leaned  back  into  the 
room. 

"This  is  n't  'good-bye,'  you  know!"  he 
told  her,  with  that  audacious  assurance  which 
was,  to  the  girl,  alike  baffling  and  bewilder- 
ing. "  We  're  going  to  meet  again!" 

The  window  slid  down  softly;  from  beyond 
it  came  a  muffled  "  good-night "  that  Lee 
sensed  rather  than  heard.  The  silhouette 
wavered,  and  was  gone. 

Lee  stood  without  moving,  her  hands  still 


138  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

laced  across  her  eyes.  But  they  were  wide- 
open  eyes,  in  which  there  was  flickering  a 
wholly  new  expression — a  wonder,  a  fear,  and 
a  wild  unrest. 

The  comfortable  serenity  which  had  grown 
up  within  her  during  this  last  month  was 
gone.  Her  cool  satisfaction  with  her  changed 
lot  was  no  more.  The  blood  was  surging 
hotly  through  her  veins;  her  heart  was  leap- 
ing. Even  she  herself  did  not  know  what 
the  medley  of  emotions  in  that  heart  spelled. 
She  dared  not  ask. 

It  was  not  until  she  had  stood  so  long  that 
she  began  to  sway  that  she  moved  at  last. 
Then,  rather  stumblingly,  she  felt  her  way  to 
the  bed  and  flung  herself  down  across  it, 
catching  her  long  hair  across  her  eyes  so  that 
they  still  were  hidden. 


CHAPTER  XII 

LEE  came  down  to  breakfast  the  next  morn- 
ing looking  listless,  and  with  a  faint  shadow- 
ing beneath  her  eyes.  Her  usual  delicate 
pallor  was  accentuated,  her  manner  nervous. 
Her  sleep  had  been  fitful,  troubled,  and  she 
still  felt  shaken,  bewildered,  and  vaguely  ap- 
prehensive. 

She  found  her  husband  awaiting  her,  and 
she  greeted  him  with  an  unaccustomed  awk- 
wardness which  made  her  feel  absurdly  young 
and  gauche.  She  bit  her  lips  as  he  took  her 
outstretched  hand  into  his  and  bowed  over  it 
in  his  odd,  old-fashioned,  courteous  way, 
striving  after  the  composure  which  so  seldom 
deserted  her. 

For  the  first  time  since  he  had  asked  her  to 
marry  him  she  was  conscious  of  being  averse 
to,  almost  resentful  of,  his  touch.  The  knowl- 
edge of  the  tie  between  them  seemed  sud- 
denly to  loom  up  before  her,  oppressive,  even 
menacing.  Yesterday  her  bonds  had  lain 
upon  her  lightly;  to-day  the  world  was 
changed. 

She  knew  it  even  while  she  refused  to  face 


140  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

the  knowledge,  and  as  Smithers  released  her 
hand  she  drew  a  deep,  long  breath  of  relief 
and  dropped  somewhat  limply  into  the  chair 
opposite  that  which  Frost  was  carefully 
arranging  for  his  master. 

She  glanced  at  the  man  quickly.  Deft, 
capable,  unobtrusive,  he  had  a  hand  beneath 
his  master's  elbow  and  was  lowering  him  into 
his  seat.  It  struck  Lee  with  sudden  force  how 
stiff  and  slow  of  movement  Jason  Smithers 
was;  she  was  aware  almost  of  a  pang  of  dis- 
may. Somehow  she  had  not  seemed  to  notice 
it  very  much  before:  if  she  had  it  had  not 
affected  her  in  any  degree  personally. 

With  the  passing  of  weeks  and  the  new 
interest  and  excitement  which  had  been 
crowded  into  her  days,  the  memory  of  the 
few  brief  hours  on  Ruff's  Island  with  Denham 
Carson  had  worn  fine.  There  had  been  no 
one  with  whom  to  contrast  Jason  Smithers. 
Now  there  was.  Once  more  Carson  had  been 
hurled  into  her  life,  as  it  were,  out  of  a  clear 
sky.  Once  more  the  impression  of  his  vivid 
personality  was  strong  upon  her.  Once  more 
the  queer,  quick  charm  of  his  smile,  the  boy- 
ish straightness  of  his  eyes  dominated  her 
thoughts. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   141 

Just  what  his  appeal  was  to  her  she  did  not 
know.  Certainly,  in  part,  it  was  his  youth, 
his  strength,  his  virility.  For  the  rest — 

She  jerked  herself  away  from  her  own 
thoughts  with  a  startled  upward  glance  as  Jason 
Smithers's  voice  came  to  her.  He  was  peering 
at  her  through  his  smoked  spectacles,  blinking 
quickly. 

"  I  hope  you  were  not  disturbed  last  night," 
he  said.  "  Frost  tells  me  there  was  a  scare — 
burglars,  or  something  of  the  sort;  that  you 
were  alarmed?" 

His  tone  was  at  once  irritable  and  solici- 
tous. Lee,  after  that  first  quick  glance, 
applied  herself  to  the  task  of  pouring  coffee, 
and  did  not  look  up  again.  She  answered  a 
little  hurriedly. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  was  in  a  measure  responsible 
for  the  scare.  I  thought  I  heard  a  noise 
downstairs  and  came  down — I  expect  my 
switching  on  the  lights  made  the  men  think 
there  was  something  wrong  here  at  the  house. 
Was  there  " — she  forced  herself  to  ask  the 
question  steadily — "  any  one,  after  all?" 

Mr.  Smithers  stirred  the  coffee  Frost  set 
beside  his  plate,  and  looked  up  at  him. 

"Well,  Frost?" 


142   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  We  did  not  find  any  one,  sir.  It  is  quite 
probable  that  a  tramp  sheltered  in  the  garage 
or  stable  loft,  and  slipped  out  when  he 
thought  there  would  be  no  one  about.  I  feel 
convinced  there  is  no  cause  for  further  appre- 
hension, sir," 

Again  Lee's  lashes  lifted,  and  she  gave  the 
servant  a  quick  look  from  under  them.  His 
face  was  as  expressionless  as  his  voice,  and 
his  attention  was  entirely  with  his  master. 
Once  more  Lee  experienced  a  feeling  of  relief, 
and  relaxed,  leaning  back  comfortably  in  her 
high  oak  chair.  Mr.  Smithers  blinked  at  her 
benignly. 

"  I  hope  you  feel  satisfied  on  that  point, 
my  dear?"  he  observed,  and  she  started, 
making  a  quick  gesture. 

"  Quite,"  she  assured  him,  with  a  rather 
nervous  laugh. 

He  nodded,  then  dismissed  Frost.  With 
the  quiet  closing  of  the  door  Lee's  uneasy 
shyness  returned  to  her.  She  dreaded,  sud- 
denly, and  for  the  first  time,  being  alone 
with  him.  She  was  conscious  of  a  distressing 
sense  of  guilt,  of  deception;  and  while  she 
felt  his  eyes  upon  her  face  she  avoided  meet- 
ing them. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   143 

For  the  first  part  of  the  meal  the  conversa- 
tion was  brief.  Mr.  Smithers  applied  himself 
heartily  to  his  breakfast,  and  when  he  spoke 
it  was  upon  quite  ordinary  subjects.  Lee 
answered  him  monosyllabically  and  ate 
scarcely  anything,  though  she  drank  two 
cups  of  coffee  thirstily. 

With  the  toast  and  marmalade  the  old  man 
gave  her  more  of  his  attention.  He  looked 
at  her,  and  at  the  untouched  food  on  her 
plate,  and  a  little  frown  brought  his  shaggy 
brows  together. 

"  You  're  looking  pale,"  he  told  her,  "  and 
you  Ve  eaten  nothing.  I  suppose  you  were 
more  scared  and  upset  last  night  than  you  're 
willing  to  admit!" 

His  tone  was  testy;  she  felt  the  penetra- 
tion of  his  gaze,  though  she  could  scarcely  see 
his  eyes  behind  the  smoked  glasses,  and  she 
stirred  beneath  it  distressfully. 

"  Indeed,  no  1 "  she  hastened  to  assure 
him.  "  But  I  have  rather  a  headache  this 
morning.  It — it  has  been  a  crowded  month, 
you  know — and  yesterday  was  a  rather  try- 
ing day.  Even  you  " — she  forced  herself  to 
look  at  him,  and  smile  faintly — "  were  over- 
done, it  seems.  Frost  told  me  you  were  not 


144  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

well.  I  'm  sorry,  and  I  hope  you  were  n't 
disturbed.  I  'd  no  idea  even  that  you  had 
returned." 

"  God  bless  the  girl!"  Smithers's  voice  was 
still  more  testy,  and  he  applied  marmalade 
liberally  to  his  toast  and  butter  with  shaky 
fingers.  "  What  sort  of  hours  do  you  think 
I  keep?  I  only  drove  into  a  neighbouring 
village  to  see  a  man  on  business — going 
abroad  to-day,  or  something  of  the  sort,  so 
could  n't  wait.  I  was  back  soon  after  you 
went  to  your  room.  I  did  n't  let  you  know,  as 
I  'd  a  touch  of  gout  and  I  'm  devilish  irritable 
when  I  'm  not  up  to  the  mark.  By  the  way, 
I  hope  Frost  made  my  excuses  adequately? 
You  must  have  thought  my  leaving  you  to 
dine  alone  last  night  was  rather  extraordi- 
nary. It  occurred  to  me  afterwards  that  I 
ought  to  have  explained  matters  myself — 
that  you  might  be  offended?" 

He  peered  at  her  somewhat  anxiously,  and 
again  Lee's  nervous  hands  fluttered  out  in  a 
hurried  movement. 

"  But  of  course  not!"  she  declared.  "  Frost 
made  things  perfectly  clear,  and  I  quite 
understood." 

Mr.  Smithers  beamed. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   145 

"  That  's  very  sweet  of  you."  He  reached 
across  the  table  and  patted  the  slender  hand 
upon  which  the  little  gold  circle  gleamed  so 
newly.  It  twitched  slightly,  but  she  did  not 
draw  it  away,  and  after  a  moment  the  old 
man  withdrew  his  own  to  make  a  second  raid 
upon  the  marmalade  pot. 

"  What  are  your  plans  for  to-day?"  he 
asked  presently,  and  Lee  shook  her  head. 

"  I  don't  know.  I— had  n't  thought.  Per- 
haps— if  you  don't  mind — I  'd  like  to  ride 
this  morning.  That  red  mare  is  perfectly 
beautiful.  I  did  not  see  you  after  our  visit 
to  the  stables  yesterday  to  thank  you.  I — 
you  're  too  good  to  me!" 

Her  soft  voice  took  a  sudden  new  warmth; 
she  leaned  forward,  involuntarily  stretching 
her  hand  towards  him.  A  second  time  Mr. 
Smithers  laid  his  own  upon  it.  He  was  smil- 
ing, but  there  was  a  note  of  seriousness  in  his 
tone. 

"  I  could  n't  be.  I  want  you  to  be  happy, 
Lee — really  happy!  I  want  you  to  live  your 
life  as  nearly  as  possible  as  if  you  were  free. 
Above  all  things  " — very  earnestly — "  I  want 
you  never  to — to  regret!" 

Lee  did  not  answer  immediately.    The  con- 


146  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

sciousness  of  guilt,  of  deception,  was  upon 
her  anew;  and  she  was  deeply  touched.  When 
at  last  she  looked  up  there  were  tears  in  her 
eyes.  She  tried  to  speak,  but  found  it,  at  that 
moment,  impossible  to  frame  words  that 
were  suitable.  ,  Her  husband  spared  her  the 
necessity.  With  a  final  pressure  he  relin- 
quished her  fingers  and  leaned  back  in  his 
chair. 

"  There,  there!  That  's  all  right,  my  dear! 
We  '11  quit  being  sober  till  there  's  need  for  it 
— which  I  sincerely  hope  there  never  will  be. 
Ride,  by  all  means;  and  don't  let  me  keep  you 
if  you  Ve  finished  your  own  breakfast.  I 
like  to  read  my  paper  over  my  last  cup  of 
coffee.  I  expect  I  shall  have  got  through 
with  the  news  by  the  time  you  're  ready  to 
start.  I  '11  like  to  see  how  the  mare  carries 
you." 

He  passed  his  empty  cup  to  Lee  as  he 
spoke.  It  rattled  in  the  saucer,  and  watching 
the  white,  unsteady  fingers,  the  girl  knew  a 
fresh  pang  at  the  recurring  signs  of  age  in 
this  man;  a  fresh,  faint  dismay — a  sense  of 
oppression. 

She  filled  the  coffee-cup  in  silence,  and,  ris- 
ing, came  with  it  to  his  side,  setting  it  down 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   147 

beside  his  plate.  Her  own  mood  bewildered 
her.  A  warm  gratitude  towards  him  for  his 
kindliness,  his  understanding,  and  the  quiet 
tact  with  which  he  had  made  more  easy  this 
first  embarrassing  meal  together  in  newly 
intimate  surroundings  warred  with  a  rising 
revolt — an  almost  overwhelming  desire  to 
escape,  to  undo  that  which  she  had  done. 

It  would  pass  presently,  she  knew.  But 
it  frightened  her  while  it  lasted.  She  had  not 
expected  to  feel  like  this ;  she  had  dreamed  of 
no  stirring  of  regret.  But  the  events  of  the 
preceding  night  had  changed  her  outlook 
upon  the  future.  In  spite  of  her  fierce  efforts 
to  forget  him,  Denham  Carson's  face  kept 
rising  before  her  eyes — his  last  words  seemed 
to  ring  in  her  ears: 

"  This  is  n't '  good-bye/  you  know!  We  're 
going  to  meet  again!" 

She  turned  rather  abruptly  towards  the 
door,  pausing  the  next  moment  as  Smithers 
spoke. 

"  Frost  has  put  the  papers  at  your  end  of 
the  table,  my  dear.  Will  you  give  them  to 
me  before  you  go?" 

Lee  reached  out  a  long  arm  for  them  and 
picked  them  up.  But  she  did  not  give  them 


148  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

to  him.  Instead  she  stood  quite  still,  even  as 
she  had  stood  once  before,  staring  at  black 
headlines  above  a  familiar  photograph  and 
Denham  Carson's  name. 

For  an  instant  her  vision  blurred;  her 
heart  leaped,  then  seemed  to  grow  still. 
Breathlessly,  utterly  forgetful  of  Jason  Smith- 
ers's  presence,  of  what  he  might  think,  she 
began  to  read. 

DENHAM  CARSON  IN  LONDON 

Denham  Carson,  the  American  murderer  who 
escaped  recently,  and  who  was  believed  to  have 
contrived  to  make  his  way  to  England,  was  seen 
twice  in  London  yesterday.  The  first  occasion 
was  in  the  morning,  in  a  quiet  street  backing  a 
square  of  fashionable  houses.  A  working-man 
passing  him  was  struck  by  his  likeness  to  the 
photograph  of  Carson  published  in  the  various 
newspapers  some  weeks  ago. ;  Unfortunately  the 
man  did  not  attempt  to  detain  him,  but  went  in 
search  of  a  policeman,  and  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  there  was  one  quite  near,  upon  their  return 
there  was  no  trace  of  the  wanted  man.  It  is 
something  of  a  mystery  how  he  contrived  to 
get  out  of  sight  so  quickly,  as  the  street  is  a 
long  one,  with  the  very  high  walls  of  the  outer 
premises  of  the  square  houses  upon  one  side,  in 
all  of  which  the  gates  were  found  to  be  securely 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   149 

locked,  and  a  row  of  smaller  houses  upon  the 
other.  The  street  was  almost  empty  at  the  time, 
and  no  one  else  appears  to  have  noticed  Carson. 
But  the  workman's  description  tallies  absolutely 
in  every  detail  with  that  of  the  murderer,  and 
there  is  little  or  no  doubt  that  it  was  he.  ...  Later 
he  was  recognised  by  several  people  at  a  popular 
restaurant;  but  again  contrived  to  get  out  and 
away  before  an  alarm  was  given.  And  again  it 
would  appear  that  there  was  something  of  a 
mystery  in  his  complete  disappearance.  Accord- 
ing to  all  statements  he  was  not  recognised  until 
leaving  the  restaurant,  although  he  had  made  no 
attempt  at  all  at  disguise.  He  walked  out  of  the 
place  so  quietly  that  no  one  realised  he  was  gone 
until  it  was  too  late.  Once  outside  he  seemed 
to  vanish.  The  police,  however,  are  hopeful  of 
tracing  him  and  effecting  his  arrest  within  the 
next  twenty-four  hours — 

"  What  in  the  world  is  the  matter,  child?" 
Jason  Smithers's  voice,  a  shade  brusque  and 
impatient,  roused  Lee  violently  to  a  realisa- 
tion of  her  surroundings.  With  a  little  gasp 
she  thrust  the  newspapers  into  his  out- 
stretched fingers. 

"  I — why,  nothing — "  she  steadied  herself 
for  a  moment  with  her  hand  against  the 
table's  edge.  "  I  was — just  interested — " 

She  knew  that  she  spoke  shakily,  and  that 


150  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

her  face  was  white.  Jason,  however,  paid  no 
heed.  With  the  paper  held  close  to  his  eyes 
he  was  reading  the  paragraph  she  had  just 
perused. 

"  Humph!  The  Carson  case  cropped  up 
again!.  .  .  By  Gad!  But  it  's  outrageous! 
Outrageous,  the  way  the  police  let  a  man  walk 
away  right  under  their  noses!  Dunderheads, 
that  's  what  they  are!  Drivelling  dunder- 
heads! If  they  had  n't  been  utterly  incompe- 
tent they  'd  have  arrested  him  before  he  'd 
been  in  England  two  days!  Disgraceful,  I 
call  it!  No  protection  in  the  arm  of  the  law 
at  all!" 

He  thumped  the  paper  violently  with  an 
indignant  hand,  glaring  at  Lee  truculently. 
She  looked  at  him  vaguely,  only  half  compre- 
hending what  he  was  saying,  but  feeling 
grateful  for  the  explosion  in  that  it  gave 
her  time  to  recover  herself.  Smithers,  labo- 
riously continuing  the  paragraph,  snorted 
anew: 

" — '  Hope  to  effect  an  arrest  within  twenty- 
four  hours,'  indeed!  I  should  hope  so,  too!" 

Lee  turned  away  rather  abruptly,  crossing 
to  the  hearth.  Her  face  had  hardened  ever  so 
slightly,  her  eyes  were  grown  brighter. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   151 

Vaguely,  within  her,  some  instinct  of  defence 
was  rising. 

She  spoke  quickly,  almost  before  she  quite 
knew  what  she  was  about  to  say: 

"  But,  perhaps — he  is  not  guilty — " 

Her  voice  came  faintly.  Mr.  Smithers  made 
an  abrupt  movement  that  sent  a  fork  clatter- 
ing to  the  ground,  and  laid  down  his  news- 
paper. His  face  was  curiously  blank;  his 
tone  so  sharp  when  he  spoke,  that  Lee  started. 

"  Not  guilty!  Good  Gad,  Lee!  What  are 
you  talking  about?  He  's  been  tried,  has  n't 
he?  And  imprisoned?  As  far  as  I  can  make 
out  it 's  by  the  merest  miracle  he  escaped  the 
extreme  penalty!  Not  guilty?  What  the 
devil  else  should  he  be?" 

"  There  was  no — real  proof — " 

Again  something  within  her  drove  her, 
unwillingly,  to  a  defence  of  Carson  that  was 
half  defiant. 

Mr.  Smithers  thumped  the  table  vigorously. 

"  God  bless  my  soul,  Lee!  Are  you  going 
to  tell  me  that  you  're  in  sympathy  with  the 
fellow?" 

His  voice  was  profoundly  shocked.  Lee, 
flushing  deeply,  let  her  hands  fall  to  her  sides 
and  turned  slowly  to  face  him.  Her  eyes 


152   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

looked  unnaturally  dark  and  troubled,  but 
they  met  his  steadfastly. 

"  As  much,"  she  declared  quietly,  "  as  I  am 
in  sympathy  with  any  creature  that  is 
hunted!  I  don't  ride  to  hounds,  you  know, 
for  that  reason!" 

She  was  crossing  the  room  as  she  spoke. 
As  she  passed  him  she  stooped  to  pick  up  the 
fork,  and  smiled  at  him  half  wistfully,  with 
a  sort  of  faint  apology.  Mr.  Smithers  cleared 
his  throat  with  unnecessary  noise,  and  blinked 
rapidly. 

"  God  bless  my  soul!"  he  ejaculated.  And 
again,  as  the  door  closed  upon  her — "  God 
bless  my  soul!" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  days  that  ensued  were  peaceful,  very 
pleasant,  and  altogether  uneventful.  For  the 
first  week  Lee  was  jumpy,  nervous,  and  not 
quite  herself.  She  had  endured  a  greater 
strain  than  she  had  guessed;  the  effect  was 
not  easy  to  shake  off.  She  knew  a  tremor 
every  evening  and  morning  that  she  picked 
up  a  newspaper;  but  the  Carson  affair  was 
soon  relegated  to  the  background  and  other 
interesting  events  placed  before  it,  so  that 
gradually  she  mentally  relaxed. 

In  a  little  while  she  found  it  possible  to 
appreciate  and  enjoy  her  new  position.  For 
the  first  time  since  Tom  Dorice's  death  she 
was  really  free;  for  the  first  time  in  her  life 
every  luxury  that  any  woman  could  desire 
was  hers. 

Resolutely  she  turned  her  face  to  the  future 
and  strove  to  forget  the  past — that  past  in 
which  Denham  Carson  had  played  a  part. 
But  there  were  moments  when  she  knew  that 
she  never  could  forget. 


154  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Perhaps  because  of  this,  and  a  sense  of 
guilt  that  still  lingered,  she  gave  Jason  Smithers 
a  good  deal  more  of  her  time  and  company 
than  otherwise  she  might  have  done.  At  first 
he  had  appeared  surprised,  then  flattered  and 
pleased.  He  roused  himself  to  enter  into  her 
moods  and  the  spirit  of  her  desires  with  an 
eagerness  which  touched  and  warmed  her 
heart  towards  him. 

There  were  nights,  in  the  pink  glow  of 
candles  and  firelight,  with  just  Frost  in 
attendance  at  the  table  when  the  halting  hesi- 
tancy left  his  speech,  his  stooped  shoulders 
seemed  to  straighten,  and  his  eyes  to  gleam 
in  defiance  of  the  smoked  glasses  that  blurred 
them;  nights  when  he  renewed  a  little  of  that 
lost  youth  of  his  which  he  had  so  reluctantly 
let  go;  nights  when,  over  a  perfectly  served 
dinner,  he  recalled  interesting  stories  to  tell 
her,  or  discussed  with  her  their  favourite 
books,  and  later,  alone  in  the  drawing-room 
with  her,  sat  in  the  shadows  while  she  played 
to  him,  and  sometimes  sang,  in  her  throaty, 
sweet,  rather  weak  voice. 

There  were  mornings  when  he  watched  her, 
with  a  wistfulness  she  sensed,  riding  away  on 
the  red  mare  down  the  drive;  and  late,  misty 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   155 

afternoons  when  he  walked  with  her,  stiffly, 
under  the  dripping  trees. 

An  intimacy  grew  between  them  which  even 
the  girl  found  more  than  merely  pleasant. 
It  was  comforting  to  be  loved  and  cared  for. 
It  reminded  her  of  the  glad  old  days  when 
she  and  her  father  had  taken  their  pleasures 
together.  She  knew  something  of  the  same 
warmth  of  well-being  now. 

Jason  Smithers  needed  her.  He  gave  her 
much,  but  she  returned  it  with  her  constant 
companionship,  her  sweetness,  and  her  youth. 
She  had  swept  his  days  bare  of  loneliness;  as, 
curiously  enough,  he  had  swept  hers. 

Only  on  occasions  now  did  she  think  of  the 
ties  which  bound  her  with  shrinking.  For 
the  most  part  they  lay  lightly  upon  her;  and 
at  all  times  Jason  Smithers 's  affection  was 
unobtrusive.  It  was  not  difficult  to  be  happy 
under  such  circumstances,  and  when,  a  week 
later  than  had  been  expected,  Terry  came  to 
them  for  her  visit,  she  found  Lee  with 
brighter  eyes  and  pinker  cheeks  than  she  had 
ever  known  her. 

She  regarded  her  for  a  few  minutes  consid- 
eringly, then  came  quickly  across  to  her 
where  she  sat,  knees  hunched,  slim  arms 


156  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

encircling  them,  upon  a  squat,  puffed  satin 
and  brocade  cushion  before  the  glowing  log 
fire,  and  stooping  laid  two  firm  brown  hands 
upon  her  shoulders. 

"  Lord,  Lee! "  she  ejaculated,  with  a  greater 
depth  than  usual  in  her  gay  voice,  "  but  it  's 
good  to  see  you  again — especially  looking  as 
you  are  now!  It  strikes  me  that  being  Mrs. 
Jason  Smithers  has  done  you  good!" 

Lee  coloured  a  little,  but  her  eyes  smiled. 
Terry  gave  her  an  ecstatic  squeeze. 

"  Then  things  really  are  working  all  right?" 
she  demanded.  "  You  're  still  happy — have 
n't  begun  to — to  be  sorry?" 

There  was  the  faintest  note  of  anxiety  in 
the  young  voice;  the  red-brown  eyes  were 
mercilessly  searching.  For  one  brief  second 
Lee  turned  her  own  away  from  them;  unex- 
pectedly the  memory  of  Denham  Carson 
stirred  and  shook  her.  A  sharp  pain  that  was 
almost  physical  stabbed  at  her  heart  and  was 
gone,  followed  by  a  surge  of  remorse  that  was 
almost  tenderness  as  she  thought  of  the  queer, 
crotchetty  old  man  who  was  her  husband. 

Slowly,  resolutely  she  met  Terry's  gaze, 
and  her  lips  lifted  in  a  fine,  faint  smile  that 
was  not  without  sweetness. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   157 

"  No,"  she  said — and  believed  honestly 
that  she  spoke  the  truth — "  I  have  n't  begun 
to  be  sorry!" 

Terry  let  her  hands  fall  and  drew  a  long, 
deep  breath. 

"  Cheers!   I  'm  no  end  glad,  Lee!" 

She  straightened  herself,  stretching.  Lee's 
eyes  grew  at  once  soft  and  grave  as  they 
watched  her.  Long-limbed  as  ever,  and  as 
carelessly  garbed,  Terry  yet  seemed  to  have 
subtly  altered.  The  too  thin  limbs  were  ever 
so  slightly  rounder,  her  movements  not  so 
awkward.  Lee  got  up  rather  abruptly,  and, 
following  her  as  she  moved  restlessly  round 
the  room,  linked  a  hand  in  her  arm. 

"  You  really  ought  to  have  different  dresses, 
Terry!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  thought — I 
hoped  Teresa — "  She  paused,  biting  her  lip 
vexedly. 

Terry  grinned.  "  Would  spend  some  of  the 
money  you  Ve  been  sending  her  on  my  ward- 
robe?" she  interpolated  swiftly.  "  Guess 
again,  honey!  And  don't  forget  that  each 
inch  on  my  skirts  adds  a  year  or  so  to  mother's 
age!" 

She  pirouetted  cheerfully  before  a  long 
mirror,  adding  as  she  did  so: 


158  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  And  mother  's  having  a  gorgeous  time 
just  now.  You  Ve  been  much  too  generous, 
Lee.  She  does  n't  deserve  it,  and  it  only 
encourages  her  extravagance.  But  she  certainly 
is  enjoying  herself.  She  's  taken  to  enter- 
taining quite  a  good  deal,  and  is  always 
collecting  new  people  about  her.  .  .  .  But 
you  really  ought  n't  to  do  it,  Lee.  She  's 
such  an  ungrateful  little  cat!" 

She  let  her  fanning  skirts  settle  about  her, 
and  laughed  at  Lee's  half-startled,  half- 
reproving  expression. 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  shock  Smithy,  or 
scandalise  Frost,  so  I  '11  let  down  my  evening 
frock  a  couple  of  inches.  By  the  way,  I 
suppose  Haines  is  still  here?" 

The  tone  was  disinterested,  but  a  deeper 
rose  burned  for  a  moment  in  her  cheeks.  Lee 
nodded. 

"  I  don't  know  what  Mr.  Smithers  would 
do  without  Frost  and  Haines!  I  think  he 
would  feel  utterly  lost."  She  laughed,  and 
Terry  gave  a  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"  That 's  a  good  thing — that  Haines  is  here, 
I  mean.  You  see,  I  Ve  a  horrible  suspicion 
that  Toby,  the  terrier,  has  mange,  and  if  so 
he  '11  have  to  be  isolated,  poor  dear,  and  I  'd 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  159 

like  Haines  to  look  after  him.  If  you  don't 
mind  " — she  glanced  at  the  clock — "  I  think 
I  '11  slip  along  with  him  to  the  garage  at  once 
— there  's  half  an  hour  before  dinner." 

She  was  gone  with  her  whirlwind  impet- 
uosity; to  reappear  as  dinner  was  announced 
still  surreptitiously  battling  with  the  fasten- 
ing of  her  belt. 

Her  toilet  had  obviously  been  hastily  made, 
and  the  front  of  her  frock  was  decidedly 
longer  than  the  back;  but  she  was  flushed 
and  smiling,  and  unusually  bright-eyed. 

She  had  found  Haines,  and,  superbly  ignor- 
ing the  incidents  of  their  recent  drive  to  town, 
had  immediately  enlisted  his  sympathy  and 
services  for  the  terrier.  After  which  she  had 
made  a  brief  inspection  of  the  little  black  mare 
awaiting  her  in  the  stables,  and  had  returned 
to  the  house  only  a  few  minutes  before  the 
dinner  hour. 

Jason  Smithers  greeted  her  warmly,  and 
throughout  the  meal  she  chattered  gaily  and 
unceasingly,  with  an  animation  which  seemed 
to  have  increased  even  since  her  arrival.  Over 
the  prospect  of  her  riding  lessons  she  waxed 
especially  enthusiastic,  and  drifted  from  this 
subject  to  a  collection  of  droll  descriptions 


160  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

of  her  various  adventures  in  driving  the  big 
Rolls-Royce. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  without 
it!"  she  declared.  "  Butler  looks  after  it  for 
me,  of  course,  but  I  never  take  him  out  with 
me  now  if  I  can  help  it  except  at  night.  He  's 
so  awfully  Scotch,  is  n't  he?  I  don't  believe 
he  's  ever  exceeded  the  speed  limit  in  his 
life!" 

She  paused  to  make  a  hearty  attack  upon 
her  sweet,  then  went  on: 

"  I  drive  perfectly,  now.  And  it  's  awfully 
handy  having  a  car  when  one  is  perpetually 
having  guests.  Patty  Clay  asked  us  down 
soon  after  your  wedding,  Lee.  Rather  decent 
of  her,  was  n't  it?  She  had  a  new  man  there 
— an  American — awfully  nice  chap!" 

The  pink  deepened  hi  her  cheeks;  a  pair 
of  mischievous  dimples  came  and  went. 

"  We  've  seen  quite  a  good  deal  of  him 
since.  He  was  only  at  Patty's  for  a  week-end 
visit,  and  he  drove  back  to  town  with  mother 
and  me." 

She  dimpled  again,  and  Lee  looked  at  her 
for  a  moment  searchingly.  Terry  caught  the 
glance,  and  blushed. 

"  I  rather  like  him,"  she  confessed  candidly. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   161 

"  He  's  a  sport,  and  never  treats  me  like  a 
kid.  We  Ve  had  some  ripping  runs  in  the  car 
together — Butler  'd  have  had  heart-failure  if 
he  'd  been  with  us!" 

Jason  Smithers  chuckled,  blinking  across  at 
her  indulgently.  Lee  looked  a  little  thought- 
ful. Terry  was  the  least  shade  self-conscious, 
and  she  had  never  seen  her  so  before.  It 
startled  her;  made  her  realise  how  nearly 
across  the  border  of  womanhood  the  girl  was. 

"  What  sort  of  boy  is  he?"  she  asked 
gently;  and  Terry  frowned. 

"  He  is  n't  a  boy.  He  is  n't  even  really 
young — perhaps  forty,  mother  thinks.  May- 
be a  bit  more." 

Lee  checked  a  smile  and  a  sigh.  Smithers, 
meeting  her  glance,  passed  a  rueful  hand 
across  his  thick  white  hair.  Terry  proceeded 
volubly. 

"  He  's  fearfully  attractive.  I  'm  not  in- 
terested in  men  as  a  rule,  but  he  's  different. 
He  's  remarkably  handsome,  and,  I  should 
think,  as  rich  as  you  are!"  This  to  Smithers. 
She  added,  pulling  grapes  from  their  stalk, 
and  eating  them  childishly,  stones  and  all, 
"  His  name  is  Roland  Gish!  What  on  earth  's 
the  matter?" 


162  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Frost,  in  the  act  of  handing  coffee  which 
had  been  ordered  at  the  table,  caught  his 
elbow  sharply  against  his  master's  chair. 
There  was  a  tinkle  of  silver,  a  soft  crash  of 
one  of  the  shell-like  cups  on  the  thick  carpet, 
a  startled  mutter  of  apology  from  the  man. 

Lee  glanced  apprehensively  at  her  husband. 
He  had  not  moved,  and  a  deep  frown  was  his 
only  indication  of  displeasure.  She  noticed 
that  his  usually  unsteady  fingers  were  clasped 
firmly  upon  the  stem  of  his  wineglass. 

Terry,  bewildered  by  something  in  his  ex- 
pression that  was  not  merely  annoyance  at 
Frost's  clumsiness,  exclaimed: 

"  Why?  Have  you  heard  of  him?  Do  you 
know  him?" 

Very  slowly  Mr.  Smithers  brought  his 
glance  back  to  her  face.  He  did  not  even 
look  at  the  distressed  Frost. 

"  I  do  not  know  him,"  he  returned.  "  But  " 
— he  lifted  his  glass  and  deliberately  drained 
its  contents — "  yes.  I  have — heard  of  him! " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

TERRY'S  riding  lessons  commenced  the  next 
day,  and  proceeded  highly  satisfactorily. 
Haines  was,  she  discovered,  a  superb  horse- 
man as  well  as  a  careful  and  efficient 
instructor. 

At  the  end  of  a  week  the  paddocks  were 
forsaken  for  the  roads.  Terry,  absolutely 
in  her  element,  glowed  with  enjoyment  and 
enthusiasm.  Haines,  who  was  her  attendant 
always,  and  who  had  apparently  utterly  for- 
gotten the  Richmond  incident,  appeared  to 
know  even  more  about  horses  than  he  did 
about  cars. 

Upon  reflection  Terry  decided  that  he 
seemed  less  like  a  servant.  In  his  riding  kit 
he  might  very  easily  have  been  a  man  of  her 
own  world;  and  perhaps  it  was  this  which 
caused  her  subtly  to  change  her  attitude 
towards  him.  On  horseback,  out  in  the  sting- 
ing freshness  of  the  open,  it  was  difficult  to 
remember  that  they  were  not  equals.  Terry 
did  not  try.  She  was  perfectly  content  with 


164  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

things  as  they  were,  and  was  enjoying  her- 
self immensely. 

Three  weeks  later,  when  Christmas  was 
almost  upon  the  world  again,  Teresa  Dorice 
wrote  to  her  stepdaughter.  She  commenced 
with  trivialities,  finishing  characteristically: 

...  I  shall  be  all  alone  at  Christmas,  and 
this  flat,  though  convenient  ordinarily,  is  too 
small  for  any  sort  of  entertaining.  I  suppose  you 
will  have  a  house-party?  If  so,  can  I  come  and 
bring  one  or  two  people  with  me?  I  Ve  heard 
such  a  lot  about  Brookbridge,  and  of  course  I 
want  to  see  your  home  there.  .  .  .  Let  me  know 
quickly,  as  I  shall  have  to  arrange  things  accord- 
ingly. I  hope  you  're  not  spoiling  Terry.  .  .  . 

Lee  went  in  search  of  her  husband  and  put 
the  letter  into  his  hand.  He  looked  up  at  her 
after  he  had  perused  it,  raising  his  brows. 

"  You  must  do  exactly  as  you  like,"  he  told 
her.  "  I  shall  be  delighted,  of  course,  to  wel- 
come Mrs.  Dorice  and  any  friends  she  cares 
to  bring,  if  you  wish  it,  too.  Personally,  I 
like  a  houseful  at  Christmas,  and  there  is 
plenty  of  room  here." 

He  gave  the  letter  into  her  hand,  holding 
it  for  a  moment  in  a  warm  clasp.  He  sat  in  a 
deep  leather  armchair  before  the  fire,  his  long 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE    165 

cane  propped  beside  him,  a  book  on  his  knee. 
It  struck  the  girl  suddenly  that  he  looked 
very  lonely,  and  her  eyes  softened.  He  met 
their  glance  and  smiled. 

"  You  're  quite  happy?"  he  asked,  and  she 
made  a  quick  movement  of  assent. 

"  I  should  be  very  ungrateful  and  hard  to 
please  if  I  were  not!"  she  said  gently.  She 
did  not  try  to  disengage  her  hand,  and  after 
a  moment  he  lifted  it  and  held  it  against  his 
cheek.  Then,  with  a  sigh,  he  let  it  go. 

Lee  looked  down  at  him  gravely.  Upon  an 
impulse,  colouring  faintly,  she  asked: 

"  You  are,  too?  I  mean — I  want  to  feel 
that  I  have  not  failed  you  in  any  respect — 
that—" 

"  I  'm  happier,"  Smithers  interrupted — and 
the  hesitant  voice  was  suddenly  firm  and  very 
deep — "  than  I  ever  hoped  I  could  be!" 

There  was  a  sincerity  in  his  tone  that 
brought  the  colour  again  to  Lee's  face,  a 
brightening  of  relief  to  her  eyes.  She  dwelt 
no  further  on  the  subject,  and  stood  beside 
him  speaking  for  a  few  minutes  of  quite  ordi- 
nary things.  But  before  she  left  him  she  laid 
a  slender  hand  lightly,  half  caressingly,  upon 
his  shoulder. 


166  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

She  wrote  to  Teresa  that  night,  stating  her 
accommodation  for  guests  and  the  number 
she  was  already  inviting,  with  the  assurance 
that  Mrs.  Dorice  and  any  friends  she  cared  to 
bring  would  be  welcomed  whenever  she  chose 
to  come  with  them. 

Two  days  later,  following  a  belated  tele- 
gram, Mrs.  Dorice  arrived.  Two  women  and 
a  man  were  with  her,  Patty  Clay,  a  girl  whom 
Lee  had  met  at  the  latter 's  house,  and  a  man 
whom  she  had  never  seen  before. 

He  was  a  rather  big  man,  well  dressed, 
immaculate,  and  decidedly  handsome  in  a 
dark,  clean-shaven,  rather  heavy  way.  He 
had  splendid  teeth  and  an  ingratiating  man- 
ner, and  bowed  before  Lee  with  a  smiling 
air  of  deprecation  as  Teresa  airily  presented 
him. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Gish,  Lee.  I  expect  Terry 
has  spoken  to  you  of  him.  He  has  only 
recently  come  to  England,  and  has  n't  very 
many  friends  as  yet.  He  was  contemplating 
a  horribly  lonely  Christmas,  so  I  brought  him 
along!" 

Lee,  giving  Gish  a  cool  hand,  was  aware  of 
a  sudden,  sharp  movement  behind  her,  and, 
looking  back  over  her  shoulder,  saw  her  hus- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   167 

band  half  rise,  then  drop  back  into  his  chair 
again.  His  face  was  in  the  shadow,  but  there 
was  a  curious  rigidity  about  him  that  she 
could  not  fail  to  notice.  Remembering  his 
odd  manner  when  Terry  had  mentioned  Gish 
before,  she  proceeded  to  present  the  younger 
man  to  him  a  shade  uneasily. 

Smithers  acknowledged  it  with  an  unsmil- 
ing, courteous  bending  of  his  white  head.  His 
hands  were  occupied  in  fumbling  for  his  cane. 
Behind  his  smoked  glasses  Lee  saw  a  momen- 
tary quick  gleam  of  unwonted  keenness. 
Then,  rosy,  bright-eyed,  and  tempestuous 
Terry  whirled  into  the  room,  and  with  a 
squeal  of  delight  precipitated  herself  upon 
Roland  Gish. 

"What  an  utterly  ripping  surprise!"  she 
exclaimed.  Then,  having  greeted  her  mother 
and  the  other  two  women,  she  flung  her  hard 
little  hat  into  a  chair  and  herself  into  another. 
"  I  simply  must  have  my  tea  before  I  get  out 
of  this  habit!"  she  declared;  and  with  some- 
thing like  relief  Lee  moved  to  her  place  to 
dispense  it. 

She  was  puzzled,  and,  watching  Terry  and 
Gish,  not  altogether  satisfied.  She  noticed 
that  Jason  Smithers  was  watching  them  too, 


168  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

and  she  frowned  faintly  as  her  white  fingers 
moved  among  the  cups. 

"  Do  you  ride?"  Terry  was  asking,  over 
her  second  cup  of  tea.  Gish  looked  at  the 
glowing  face  and  slender  figure  in  its  neat 
habit,  and,  courageously  ignoring  a  certain 
stiffness  of  his  limbs,  nodded.  Terry  beamed. 

"  You  must  come  out  to-morrow.  This 
country  is  lovely.  We  went  quite  a  distance 
to-day,  up  over  the  hill  and  past  the  woods. 
Do  you  know,  there  's  the  quaintest  little  hut 
right  in  the  middle  of  those  woods!  Quite  a 
rough  place,  but  furnished;  and  it  looks  as 
though  it  had  been  lived  in  quite  recently. 
Haines  did  n't  want  to  stop  and  investigate 
for  some  reason,  but  I  made  him.  I  can't 
imagine  who  could  choose  such  a  lonely  spot 
— and,  anyway,  they  must  be  trespassing. 
All  that  is  your  property,  is  n't  it?" 

She  turned  to  Smithers.  His  hand  shook 
more  than  ever  as  he  set  his  tea-cup  down, 
and  he  looked  at  Lee  with  a  frown. 

"  Too  much  sugar,  my  dear — I  '11  have 
another  cup!  Yes,  Terry,  the  wood  is  my 
property.  The  hut  is  occasionally  used  at 
night  by  one  or  other  of  the  gamekeepers." 

He  turned  to  Mrs.  Dorice  with  a  courteous 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE    169 

question,  and  Terry  gave  her  attention  once 
more  to  her  tea  and  Gish. 

Later,  visiting  Toby  in  his  cosy  quarters 
in  the  garage,  she  found  Haines  dressing  him. 
He  looked  up  eagerly. 

"  He  's  almost  well  now,"  he  told  her. 
"  You  '11  be  able  to  have  him  with  you  in  a 
week,  I  expect." 

"Good!"  Terry  bent  to  pat  the  terrier's 
head.  "  You  're  a  wonder,  Haines.  Oh,  by 
the  way — you  won't  need  to  ride  with  me 
to-morrow.  Mr.  Gish  rides,  and  will  be  com- 
ing with  me — we  '11  want  the  horses  about 
eight.  I  want  to  show  him.  What  is  the 
matter,  Haines?  You  look  as  if  you  'd  swal- 
lowed a  peppermint  ball!" 

Her  tone  was  aggrieved  as  well  as  startled. 
Haines  looked  as  she  had  only  seen  him  look 
once  before,  and  instinctively  she  drew  back. 

"  Gish  I"  he  repeated  slowly.  "  Not  Roland 
Gish?"  Then,  as  she  nodded,  staring 
blankly:  "  Good  God!  Do  you  mean  to  say 
that  Roland  Gish  is  here — staying  up  at  the 
house?" 

Terry  reared  her  small  head  aggressively. 

"Really,  Haines!    And  why  not?" 

"  Why  not!"  Haines  choked,  then  he  flung 


170  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

away,  taking  a  couple  of  swift  strides  towards 
the  door.  "  Good  God!  Why  not?  Because 
he  's  a  rotten  cad — a  bounder — a  cur!  Because 
he  's  got  one  of  the  worst  reputations  of  any 
man  in  the  whole  of  the  United  States! 
Because  he  is  n't  fit  to  breathe  the  same  air 
as  decent  men  and  women!  God!  And  he  's 
under  Jason  Smithers's  roof! — talking  of 
riding  with  you — " 

He  stopped  abruptly.  His  face  was  suffused 
with  dark  blood,  his  eyes  aflame.  Abruptly, 
before  she  realised  it,  he  laid  his  two  hands 
upon  her  shoulders  holding  her  in  a  grip  of 
steel. 

"  See  here,"  he  said  hoarsely,  ignoring  her 
furious  effort  to  free  herself,  and  the  indigna- 
tion of  her  face,  "let  me  see  Roland  Gish 
within  two  yards  of  you  and — and  I  '11  break 
every  bone  in  his  abominable  body!" 

He  loosed  her,  breathing  hard.  Then, 
stooping,  he  gathered  up  Toby  and  strode  to 
the  narrow  stairway  leading  to  the  rooms 
above.  Halfway  up  he  looked  down  at  her. 

"  Don't  forget! "  he  said,  in  an  odd,  strained 
sort  of  way  as  though  he  still  found  self- 
control  difficult.  "I  mean  it!" 

And  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XV 

IT  was  characteristic  of  Terry  that  she  hesi- 
tated not  a  moment  in  going  to  Jason  Smithers 
with  her  complaint  against  Haines.  Boiling 
over  with  indignation  and  a  sense  of  outrage, 
she  felt  that  she  hated  the  man  and  hoped 
vindictively  that  his  master  would  make  him 
smart  for  his  intolerable  impertinence. 

How  had  he  dared,  she  demanded  furiously 
of  herself,  to  speak  to  her  so — to  treat  her 
as  though  he  was  her  equal?  She  could  feel 
the  touch  of  his  strong  hands  upon  her 
shoulders  still  as  she  precipitated  herself  into 
Mr.  Smithers's  presence,  and  shrugged  them 
violently,  disgustedly,  as  if  to  rid  herself  of  it. 

Lee  was  with  her  husband,  and  listened, 
shocked  and  bewildered,  to  her  stepsister's 
storm  of  words.  But  the  old  man  himself 
heard  her  with  unruffled  equanimity. 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two  when 
she  had  finished.  Lee,  watching  him  a  little 
anxiously,  could  make  nothing  whatever  of 
his  expression,  yet  she  somehow  felt  that  in- 
wardly he  was  not  so  composed  as  he  would 
appear.  He  met  her  dismayed  glance,  and 


172   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

smiled  at  her.  Then  he  looked  again  at 
Terry. 

"  Is  that  all,  child?"  he  asked,  in  his  in- 
dulgently gentle  way,  and  Terry  made  a  wide, 
fierce  gesture. 

"  All/"  she  exploded  indignantly.  "  Is  n't 
it  enough?  Because  Haines  is  an  old  and 
trusted  servant  of  yours  is  he  to  indulge  in 
insufferable  liberties  and  offer  gross  imper- 
tinences to  your  guests?  How  dare  he  criti- 
cise people  who  are  under  your  roof — or  my 
actions?  Because  you  allow  him  to  swank 
about  doing  nothing  most  of  the  time  for  all 
the  world  as  if  he  were  a  gentleman — " 

"Terry!" 

Lee's  voice  was  gentle,  but  it  held  a  note 
of  quiet  command  that  checked  Terry  in  spite 
of  her  rage. 

Mr.  Smithers  coughed  slightly  behind  his 
hand.  One  might  almost  have  suspected  that 
he  smiled,  but  his  tone  was  absolutely  serious 
when  he  spoke. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said  in  his  courteous  way, 
"  you  will  find  Frost  for  me,  Terry,  and  tell 
him  to  send  Haines  to  me  here  immediately 
after  dinner." 

Terry  opened  her  lips,  looked  at  him,  and 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE    173 

closed  them  again.  Still  flushed,  she  made  for 
the  door,  but  paused  as  Smithers's  voice  spoke 
her  name  again. 

"Terry!"  There  was  an  unaccustomed 
note  of  incisiveness  in  his  usually  hesitant 
tones  that  made  both  girls  look  at  him  quickly. 
"  A  moment,  my  dear." 

He  leaned  slightly  forward,  meeting  the 
impatient  questioning  of  the  still  brilliant  red- 
brown  eyes,  smiling  into  them  benignly. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  appear  fussy,  but  if  you 
ride  with  Mr.  Gish  to-morrow  instead  of  with 
Haines,  I  want  you  to  wait  until  Lee  finds  it 
convenient  to  accompany  you.  I  suppose  I 
am  old-fashioned,  but  I  like  young  women 
and  girls  to  be  somewhat  strict  in  their  observ- 
ance of  the  conventions.  And  Mr.  Gish — " 

He  paused,  drumming  long  white  fingers  on 
the  arm  of  his  chair. 

Terry  flung  up  her  head  resentfully,  but 
he  gave  her  no  time  to  frame  the  retort  hover- 
ing on  her  lips. 

"  Mr.  Gish  is,  of  course,  a  friend  of  your 
mother's — and  for  the  moment  my  guest.  At 
the  same  time,  if  my  memory  serves  me 
rightly,  he  has — ah — the  reputation  of  being 
rather  more  of  a  man  of  the  world  than — er — 


174  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

I  consider  quite  desirable  in  an  intimate 
acquaintance  of  a  very  young  girl.  That  is 
all.  I  feel  quite  sure  you  have  too  much  com- 
mon sense  to  bear  me  any  malice  for  my  plain 
speaking — which,  after  all,  must  be  forgivable 
in  an  old  man." 

He  blinked  at  her  benevolently,  nodded  in 
kindly  dismissal,  and  after  a  brief  instant  of 
hesitation  the  girl  passed  out  of  the  room,  still 
flushed  and  in  silence. 

As  the  door  closed  upon  her,  Lee  went 
quickly  to  her  husband's  side.  She,  too,  was 
a  little  flushed,  her  soft  eyes  troubled. 

"  I  'm  awfully  sorry,"  she  declared  distress- 
fully; "  I  had  no  idea  of  whom  Teresa  would 
choose  to  bring  with  her.  If  I  had  I  'm  afraid 
I  should  not  have  interfered.  I  Ve  never 
even  heard  of  Mr.  Gish  before." 

The  old  man  lifted  one  of  the  slender  hands 
and  patted  it  reassuringly. 

"Tut!  tut!  There  is  nothing  to  bother 
your  pretty  head  about,  my  dear — nothing  at 
all.  It  is  unfortunate  that  young  Haines  let 
his  feelings  carry  him  away — I  must,  of 
course,  speak  to  him  seriously  about  it.  As 
to  Gish—" 

He  paused,  and  again  Lee  was  aware  of  a 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   175 

certain  stiffening  of  his  body,  a  subtle  altera- 
tion of  his  expression.  Her  eyes  deepened  to 
anxiety. 

"  Is  he — is  n't  he  the  sort  of  person  one 
ought  to  know?"  she  asked;  and  added,  with 
faint  exasperation,  "  I  'm  afraid  Teresa  really 
is  dreadfully  casual  in  her  choice  of  acquaint- 


ances— " 


Her  husband  did  not  answer  at  once.  He 
was  looking  straight  before  him,  and  while  he 
still  held  her  hand  the  caress  had  gone  from 
his  touch.  It  was  unconsciously  hard ;  he  gave 
the  impression  of  being  tense  with  a  curious 
restraint.  He  spoke  quietly  enough  at  last. 

"  Had  I  been  aware  of  Mrs.  Dorice's  inten- 
tion of  bringing  him  here,  I  should  have 
suggested  the  selection  of  another  guest  in 
his  place.  As  it  is  " — Lee  felt  the  thin,  white 
fingers  tighten  with  unexpected  strength  over 
hers — "  as  it  is,  under  the  circumstances,  and 
since  he  is  our  guest,  we  must  make  the  best 
of  it.  And  now — let  us  talk  of  something 
else.  I  want  you  to  come  to  me  when  you 
are  dressed  for  dinner,  before  you  go  down. 
Frost  will  tell  you  when  I  am  ready." 

Lee  said  nothing  further  on  the  subject. 
They  talked  desultorily  for  a  few  minutes 


176  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

before  she  went  to  her  own  room.  Smithers 
appeared  quite  unruffled,  and  some  of  her 
own  anxiety  subsided.  She  dressed  quickly 
and  came  to  him  again  at  Frost's  summons. 

He  had  already  dressed,  and  was  standing 
leaning  on  his  long  cane.  With  his  white 
hair  he  made  an  impressive  figure,  despite  his 
bowed  shoulders  and  the  continual  shaking  of 
his  hands,  and  the  girl,  meeting  his  eyes, 
smiled  at  him  involuntarily. 

She  herself  looked  more  lovely  than  she 
guessed.  She  was  wearing  white,  and  was 
without  ornament  of  any  sort.  Smithers's 
eyes  flickered  as  they  rested  on  her,  and  he 
slipped  a  hand  suddenly  into  his  pocket. 
When  he  drew  it  forth  a  long  string  of  pearls 
hung,  gleaming  mistily  in  the  candlelight, 
from  his  fingers. 

Lee  had  halted  on  the  threshold.  The  old 
man  came  to  her  slowly,  in  his  stiff  way,  the 
hand  holding  the  pearls  outstretched. 

"  My  Christmas  present,  Lee,"  he  said. 
And  added,  simply,  but  with  a  warm  satisfac- 
tion in  his  tone  that  brought  the  rose  flooding 
to  her  cheeks,  "  I  'm  glad  you  're  wearing 
white!" 

He  threw  the  string  of  pearls  lightly  over 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   177 

her  small  head  as  he  spoke,  and  she  drew  a 
quick  breath  as  their  warmth  touched  her 
skin.  For  an  instant  they  faced  each  other, 
quite  silent. 

The  old  man  spoke  pleasantly. 

"  I  hope  you  '11  like  them.  They  are  his- 
toric— none  of  your  modern  stuff." 

Lee  was  weighting  the  chain  in  her  hands. 
She  looked  up  with  misty  eyes,  her  cheeks 
still  rosy. 

"  You  're  far  too  good  to  me! "  she  declared. 
"  You  give  me  so  much  that  it  makes  me  feel 
— unfair." 

Her  husband's  eyes  went  from  her  face  to 
the  white,  bare  shoulders.  A  dull  flush  crept 
into  his  cheeks;  for  a  moment,  behind  his 
glasses,  she  saw  his  eyes  gleam.  Then  his 
outstretched  hand  went  out  and  closed  upon 
her  arm  above  the  dimpled  elbow.  He  held 
her  gently,  looking  down  at  her.  When  he 
spoke  it  was  a  shade  jerkily. 

"  You  're  very  beautiful,  Leel  ..."  He 
drew  her  suddenly  closer  to  him.  "  If  I  were 
a  younger  man — I  'd  give  all  the  years  of  my 
life  to  making  you  love  me.  .  .  ." 

Lee  did  not  move,  but  the  rose  faded  from 
her  face,  her  eyes  darkened. 


178  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

A  little  abruptly  Smithers  released  his  hold, 
and  she  moved  quickly  away  from  him,  her 
hands  still  clasping  the  pearls.  He  followed 
her  presently  and  stood  just  behind  her. 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  he  said;  "  I  have  made  you 
angry." 

The  girl  shook  her  head  quickly.  Then  with 
an  effort,  she  faced  him,  meeting  his  eyes. 

"Of  course  not!"  she  declared  with  an 
attempt  at  lightness  that  was  not  very  suc- 
cessful. "  I — I  should  be  foolish  if  I  were 
angered  at  so  pretty  a  compliment!" 

He  looked  at  her  oddly  from  behind  his 
glasses,  but  he  did  not  answer  her  smile. 

"  I  want  to  be  sure  of  that!"  he  told  her 
quietly,  and  there  was  a  sudden  vibrant  wist- 
fulness  in  his  voice  that  caught  at  her  heart- 
strings. 

She  stood  looking  up  at  him  for  a  moment, 
uncertain,  hesitant.  Then  a  quick  tenderness 
that  held  in  it  much  of  pity  welled  up  into  her 
eyes. 

Impulsively  she  answered: 

"  You  can  be  sure.  .  .  ."  And,  as  impul- 
sively, she  reached  up  a  long,  white  young 
arm  and,  circling  his  neck,  drew  his  face  down. 
For  just  one  fluttering  instant  cool,  unimpas- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   179 

sioned  lips  touched  his  cheek.  Then,  at  the 
sound  of  voices  without,  she  turned  quickly 
aside  and  moved  towards  the  door. 

At  it  she  paused  and  looked  back  at  him. 
In  one  hand,  caressingly,  she  held  the  pearls. 
She  looked  down  at  them,  and  up  again, 
smiling. 

"  They  're  lovely!"  she  declared  softly,  and 
was  gone. 

Mr.  Smithers  stood  without  moving.  He 
had  not  altered  his  position  when  Frost  came 
to  him  quietly  from  the  dressing-room  beyond. 
Nor  did  he  look  round.  But  he  spoke  after  a 
moment,  testily. 

"  Frost,"  he  said,  with  an  irritable  jerk  of 
his  stooped  shoulders,  "  Haines  is  a  fool!  A 
damned  fool!  .  .  ." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  and  straightened 
himself  stiffly.  Under  his  shaggy  white  brows 
he  glared  at  himself  frowningly  in  the  candle- 
lit mirror.  His  cane  had  fallen  to  the  ground. 
Frost  picked  it  up  and  gave  him  a  sharp 
glance. 

"  A  damned  fool!"  Mr.  Smithers  repeated; 
and  added,  with  a  sort  of  grim  impatience,  as 
he  took  the  cane  from  the  man's  hand,  "  And 
so  am  I!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

IT  was  perhaps  not  surprising  that  Lee  found 
her  role  as  hostess  of  a  large  house-party  a 
more  difficult  task  than  at  first  she  had  imag- 
ined it  would  be.  Her  guests  in  the  main  were 
well  chosen,  and  appeared  to  be  enjoying 
themselves.  But  Roland  Gish's  presence,  and 
Terry's  defiant  attitude,  had  struck  a  jarring 
note. 

Lee  was  disturbed,  despite  her  outward 
serene  composure.  Nor,  it  seemed  to  her,  did 
the  atmosphere  grow  clearer  as  time  went  on. 
Of  necessity  Terry  had  obeyed  her  host's 
desire  in  respect  of  her  rides  with  Gish;  never- 
theless, she  was  continually  in  his  company, 
seemed,  indeed,  to  take  pleasure  in  it,  and  to 
encourage  his  decidedly  marked  attentions. 

Lee  did  not  like  Roland  Gish.  Still  less 
did  she  like  a  certain  possessiveness  in  the 
way  he  sometimes  looked  at  Terry. 

At  the  same  time,  in  fairness,  she  could  not 
feel  wholly  out  of  sympathy  with  the  girl. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   181 

Observing  Gish  carefully,  she  was  bound  to 
admit  that  the  man  was  good-looking,  pleas- 
ant, and  possessed  of  a  breezily  jolly  manner 
which  was  not  without  fascination. 

Lee  felt  an  impatient,  rising  anger  against 
her  careless,  butterfly  stepmother.  She  had 
always  been  hopelessly  indiscriminate  in  her 
haphazard  collecting  of  chance  acquaintances. 
Before  it  had  not  mattered  so  much;  now 
Terry  was  growing  up — and  Terry  was  im- 
pressionable. 

She  voiced  something  of  this,  impulsively, 
to  Mrs.  Dorice  a  few  days  later.  She  had 
been  riding  with  the  two — a  somewhat  silent 
and  unobtrusive,  but  none  the  less  observant, 
chaperon.  On  the  ride  homeward  the  two 
had  almost  seemed  to  forget  her  presence. 
Terry,  a  vivid  picture  of  youth  and  health  and 
elfin  loveliness,  was  provocative,  alluring;  the 
man's  manner  towards  her  was  caressing, 
more  than  ever  possessive. 

These  things  had  troubled  Lee.  Still  more 
was  she  troubled  by  an  incident  which 
occurred  just  after  they  had  entered  the  drive 
gates.  Haines,  walking,  was  coming  towards 
them.  Terry  was  so  intent  upon  something  that 
Gish  was  telling  her  that  she  had  not  even 


182   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

seen  Haines.  But  Lee,  glancing  at  him  with  a 
little  nod  of  greeting,  was  shocked  and 
startled  by  the  expression  of  his  face. 

In  a  flash  it  had  seemed  to  her  to  change. 
For  an  instant  suffused  with  dark,  angry 
blood,  it  grew  immediately  very  white — a  very 
passion  of  anger  and  resentment  and  dislike 
showed  in  it,  and  Lee,  riding  up  quickly 
abreast  of  the  other  two,  frowned. 

She  liked  Haines  well  enough,  but  to-day 
she  felt  really  angry,  resentful  of  his  resent- 
ment, puzzled  and  annoyed  at  his  manner. 
He  certainly  was  showing  presumption  that 
amounted  to  impertinence,  she  told  herself, 
and  she  carried  her  ruffled  sense  of  the  fitness 
of  things  into  her  stepmother's  presence. 

She  found  that  lady  half  drowsily  consum- 
ing cigarettes,  in  a  delightful  negligee  before 
an  enormous  fire.  She  looked  up,  raising  her 
brows  at  Lee's  somewhat  unceremonious 
entry. 

"  Hullo?"  she  greeted  lazily;  and  added, 
after  a  keen  glance  at  the  other's  flushed 
face:  "  Anything  up?  You  look  bothered." 

Lee  did  not  answer  at  once.  She  came 
slowly  across  the  room,  pulling  off  her  gaunt- 
lets. Then  rather  abruptly,  she  asked: 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   183 

"  Teresa,  is  Mr.  Gish  staying  for  the  whole 
of  your  visit?" 

Mrs.  Dorice  stared.  "  My  dear  girl,  I 
suppose  so — I  asked  him  for  the  whole  of  it. 
Why?" 

Lee  looked  down  at  her  dusty  boots,  then 
up,  suddenly  and  directly,  into  her  step- 
mother's eyes. 

"  I  hoped  he  was  n't,"  she  said  quietly. 
"  For  one  thing,  Mr.  Smithers  does  not  like 
him;  nor  do  I.  I  believe — from  what  I  have 
heard — that  he  is  not  altogether  a  desirable 
acquaintance." 

"  Really!"  Mrs.  Dorice  sat  up  with  a  jerk. 

Lee  brought  her  brows  together,  making  a 
little  impatient  movement. 

"  I  'm  sorry,  Teresa.  I  have  not  forgotten 
that  Mr.  Gish  is  our  guest,  or  that  I  asked  you 
to  bring  whom  you  pleased.  I  know  nothing 
about  him  personally;  I  know,  too,  that  prob- 
ably you  know  as  little.  .  .  .  You  never  do 
know  very  much  about  the  friends  you  make, 
Teresa.  Generally  it  has  n't  mattered.  This 
time  it  does." 

She  was  still  looking  levelly  into  Mrs. 
Dorice's  eyes,  and  she  went  on  deliberately 
before  the  other  could  voice  a  protest. 


184  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"I  mean — because  of  Terry!" 

"  Because  of  Terry? — "  Mrs.  Dorice's 
voice  was  shrill.  Then  she  began  to  laugh. 
"  My  dear  Lee!  What  bee  have  you  got  in 
your  bonnet  now?" 

Again  Lee  made  a  movement  of  her 
hands. 

"  Mr.  Gish,"  she  said  quietly,  "  Is  paying 
Terry  far  too  much  attention." 

Teresa  gasped.  For  a  moment  she  seemed 
bereft  of  speech.  Then  she  pushed  her 
cushions  away  from  her  and  got  to  her  feet. 

"  I  guess  you  're  crazy,  Lee!"  she  retorted. 
"  I  never  heard  that  a  man  worth  what 
Roland  Gish  is  worth  could  pay  a  girl  too 
much  attention!  Unless " — with  another 
shrill  laugh — "  you  're  under  the  impression 
that  those  attentions  are  not  serious.  Be- 
cause I  can  assure  you  that  they  care.  I 
know  the  signs.  Besides,  he  has  as  good  as 
said  so  to  me." 

Lee's  fine  brows  contracted. 

"  It  is  the  fact  that  he  's  serious  that 
troubles  me!"  she  returned.  "  Terry  's  far  too 
wholesome  and  sensible  to  be  carried  away  by 
a  mere  flirtation.  As  it  is — oh,  Teresa!" 

She  stretched  out  a  slim  hand  in  sudden 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   185 

appeal  to  the  other  woman,  her  beautiful  eyes 
very  earnest,  very  troubled. 

"  Can't  you  see  that  it  's  all  wrong!"  she 
went  on  swiftly.  "  Terry  's  so  young.  And 
Mr.  Gish  is  a  man  of  the  world — a  man 
whose — whose  reputation  is  not  altogether 
enviable.  Who — " 

"  That 's  enough!"  Mrs.  Dorlce's  voice  was 
harsh,  her  pansy  eyes  agleam,  her  face  unbe- 
comingly flushed.  "  I  don't  know  if  you  're 
aware  of  it,  but  you  're  positively  insulting — 
not  only  to  Mr.  Gish,  but  to  me.  I  can  tell 
you  I  'm  getting  sick,  sorry,  and  tired  of  your 
airs,  anyway!  It  was  bad  enough  when  I  had 
to  put  up  with  them.  Now  I  don't — and  I  'm 
not  going  to.  It  strikes  me  that  old  Grandpa 
Smithers  has  succeeded  in  making  you  an 
even  greater  prig  than  you  were  before.  .  .  ." 

Lee's  face  flushed  hotly  at  the  sneer.  She 
opened  her  lips  quickly,  then  closed  them 
again  and,  turning  on  her  heel,  moved  to  the 
door.  Teresa's  voice  followed  her. 

"  Terry  's  old  enough  to  know  her  own 
mind,  anyway.  And  if  Roland  Gish  wants  to 
marry  her  and  she  '11  have  him,  I  should  feel 
inclined  to  go  down  on  my  knees  and  thank 
the  good  Lord  for  it!  Terry  has  looks  of  a 


186  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

sort,  but  she  's  not  a  girl  to  appeal  to  every 
man,  and  I  certainly  never  hoped  I  'd  get  her 
off  my  hands  so  early.  See  here,  Lee," — the 
shrill  voice  sharpened  and  grew  hard, — "  I 
don't  want  any  interference  from  you.  I 
won't  put  up  with  it!" 

Lee  did  not  answer.  Outside  in  the  wide 
corridor  she  stood  for  a  moment  uncertainly. 
From  the  hall  below  there  came  the  sound  of 
laughter  and  voices.  Slowly  she  moved  to 
the  stairs,  and,  standing  against  the  oaken 
bannisters,  looked  down.  Tea-tables  were 
being  set  before  the  huge  hearth.  Terry, 
still  in  her  habit,  was  standing  at  Roland 
Gish's  side,  her  face  uptilted,  eyes  and  mouth 
mischievous  and  mirthful.  The  man  was 
looking  down  at  her  with  veiled  eyes,  and  Lee 
studied  him,  earnestly. 

From  this  distance  he  looked  debonair, 
handsome,  rather  attractive — a  fine  figure  of 
a  man  in  his  riding  kit.  But  she  remembered 
his  eyes,  and  certain  lines  of  dissipation  about 
a  mouth  that  was  very  hard  and  even  cruel 
when  it  did  not  smile,  and  she  drew  a  long 
sigh. 

She  wondered,  in  troubled  fashion,  what 
there  was  actually  against  the  man.  For  a 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE    187 

moment  she  was  almost  tempted  to  seek 
Jason  Smithers  and  ask  him.  So  far  some 
unexplainable  instinct  had  withheld  her  from 
doing  so.  She  had  sensed  that,  always,  in 
Roland  Gish's  presence  her  husband  had 
not  been  himself — that  he  had  restrained  his 
feelings  with  an  effort  that  was  almost  violent, 
and  she  had  hesitated  to  add  to  an  agitation 
at  which,  she  knew,  he  would  not,  for  the 
world,  have  had  her  guess. 

Now,  as  she  prepared  slowly  to  go  down- 
stairs, a  step  sounded  behind  her  and  she 
looked  round. 

Frost  stood  at  her  elbow. 

"  If  you  please,  ma'am,  Mr.  Smithers  would 
like  to  speak  to  you  in  his  room.  He  has  been 
indisposed  since  luncheon,  ma'am — a  return 
of  the  gout,  I  think." 

Lee  turned  back  at  once,  a  real  sympathy 
in  her  eyes,  a  little  of  anxiety.  Frost  opened 
the  door  of  Jason  Smithers's  room  for  her  and 
disappeared.  Smithers  was  in  a  deep  chair 
at  the  shadowy  end  of  the  room,  his  foot 
propped  up.  She  went  to  him  quickly,  laying  a 
light  hand  upon  the  long,  nervous  one  on  the 
chair  arm. 

She  felt  it  quiver  for  an  instant,  then,  to 


188  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

her  surprise,  he  jerked  it  almost  violently 
away.  He  spoke  abruptly,  irritably: 

"  Don't!  I  hate  being  touched  when  I  'm 
ill!  This  damn  gout — "  The  words  ended  in 
an  inarticulate  growl. 

Lee  let  her  hand  fall  and  stood  waiting. 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  the  old  man  said  after  a 
moment,  still  testily,  but  with  faint  contrition. 
"  But  it 's  damnable  being  tied  here  by  the  leg! 
Damnable,  to  watch  youth  all  about  one  and 
to — and  to  feel  a  cripple.  .  .  .  There,  child! 
Don't  take  any  notice  of  me.  I  'm  like  a  bear 
with  a  sore  head.  Did  Frost  tell  you  I  want 
you  to  do  something  for  me?" 

Lee  shook  her  head.  Smithers  moved  his 
swathed  foot  gingerly,  and  swore  softly,  apol- 
ogising an  instant  later. 

"  I  'm  a  grumpy  old  curmudgeon,  child!  But 
I  hate  inaction.  .  .  .  Now,  then.  I  was 
going  into  Brookbridge  village  this  evening 
after  dinner — meeting  the  nine  o'clock  from 
London.  There  '11  be  one  of  my  men  of  busi- 
ness on  it  with  some  important  papers — devil- 
ish important  papers — that  I  ought  to  deal 
with  to-night.  I  could  send  Frost  for  them, 
but  I  dare  n't — can't  spare  him  when  I  'm  like 
this.  And  my  man  will  only  give  them  up  to 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   189 

a  responsible  person.  Will  you  go?  Haines 
will  drive  you,  and  bring  you  straight  back, 
so  you  '11  be  quite  safe." 

For  an  instant  she  saw  his  eyes  glint — was 
conscious  of  an  odd,  suppressed  eagerness  in 
his  voice. 

Then  she  laughed. 

"  But,  of  course  I  '11  go!  I — I  'm  only  too 
glad  to  be  able  to  do  anything  for  you — 
that  is  of  the  slightest  help." 

She  spoke  shyly,  half  stammeringly. 
Smithers  looked  up  at  her,  and  away  rather 
quickly.  He  spoke  almost  brusquely. 

"  Good!"  He  leaned  slightly  farther  back 
into  the  shadows.  "  Haines  will  be  waiting 
with  the  car  at  eight-forty;  that  will  give  you 
plenty  of  time.  You  '11  be  back  before  your 
guests  have  time  to  miss  you.  Give  the  papers 
to  Frost.  I  don't  want,  on  any  account,  to  be 
disturbed  again  to-night.  Before  you  go,  just 
touch  the  bell,  will  you?" 

Lee  obeyed  in  silence.  She  felt  herself 
dismissed,  and  flushed  slightly  at  his  almost 
churlish  tone.  But  there  was  nothing  of  re- 
sentment in  her  heart:  it  was  so  seldom  that 
the  old  man  showed  her  anything  but  a  charm- 
ing courtesy  and  consideration,  and  she  was 


190  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

conscious  of  a  little  pang  of  pity  for  him  as 
she  looked  back  from  the  doorway. 

It  was  not  until  she  was  at  the  dinner  table 
that  she  remembered  she  had  wanted  to  ques- 
tion him  concerning  Roland  Gish. 

Later,  in  the  wide  hall,  Terry  pirouetted 
round  her  while  Frost,  wooden  and  deft  as 
ever,  put  Lee  into  a  huge  fur  coat. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  you  were  going 
before,  Lee?"  she  demanded.  "  I  'd  have 
driven  you  myself.  Now  I  Ve  just  promised 
Mr.  Gish  to  tell  the  cards  for  him!  .  .  ." 

Frost  had  opened  the  door.  The  headlights 
of  the  big  car  shone  blindingly.  Haines,  erect, 
stood  beside  it.  Lee  merely  laughed  and 
passed  out,  but  Terry  ran  on  to  the  step  after 
her,  a  white,  radiant  little  figure  in  the  mellow 
glow  from  the  hall. 

"Ugh!  But  it  's  cold.  You  '11  be  half 
frozen  when  you  get  back.  .  .  .  Why,  it  's 
freezing.  ..." 

She  had  slipped  and  recovered  herself  as 
she  spoke.  Lee,  bundled  in  her  furs,  looked 
up.  Haines  was  already  in  his  seat,  but  he 
did  not  start  the  car.  He,  too,  was  looking  up 
towards  the  group  on  the  steps  and  his  face 
was  white,  set,  and  very  grim. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   191 

Roland  Gish  had  caught  Terry  as  she 
stumbled.  He  kept  his  hand  upon  her  arm, 
familiarly,  smiling  down  at  her  reassuringly. 
For  one  instant  Haines  sat  quite  still.  Then 
he  started  the  car  with  a  jerk  so  violent  that 
it  flung  Lee  forward. 

He  raced  the  machine  down  the  drive  and 
out  of  the  gates.  In  the  highroad  he  slowed 
up  a  little,  and,  without  turning  round,  he 
spoke: 

"  Say,  Mrs.  Smithers — there  's  something 
I  Ve  got  to  say  to  you,  right  now — if  you  '11 
listen." 

Lee,  startled,  surprised,  looked  up.  She 
could  see  his  profile  faintly,  hard  and  set. 
For  a  moment  she  hesitated,  then  she  bent 
her  head.  Haines  drew  a  long  breath  and 
guided  the  car  expertly  round  a  dark  corner. 

"  I  want  to  know  " — he  said  slowly,  very 
deliberately — "  if  you  can't  take  a  hand  and 
do  something  to  stop  that  affair  between — 
Gish — and  Miss  Terry — before  it  's  too  late? 
I  guess,  if  some  one  don't — I  '11  have  to." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

FOR  the  space  of  some  seconds,  utterly  taken 
aback,  Lee  remained  dumb.  Then  she 
stiffened  among  her  furs,  turning  eyes  of 
amazed  indignation  upon  the  grimly  set  pro- 
file of  the  chauffeur. 

"  Really,  Haines!  You  're  forgetting  your- 
self unpardonably!  I  am  not  accustomed  to 
discussing  either  my  sister's  or  my  guests' 
affairs  with  my  servants." 

There  was  icy  rebuke  in  her  voice,  and 
Haines  flushed  dully,  but  for  a  moment  met 
her  eyes  steadily.  Then  he  took  one  strong, 
nervous  hand  off  the  wheel  to  make  a  swift, 
sweeping  gesture. 

"  I  guess  we  '11  cut  that  out.  I  have  n't 
always  been  a  servant,  and  I  'm  not  meaning 
to  take  liberties.  This  thing  's  serious — deadly 
serious.  It  seems  to  me  you  're  the  only 
person  I  can  appeal  to.  Your  sister  's  heading 
for  disaster  and  certain  damnation — and  I 
reckon  there  is  n't  any  too  much  time  to  pull 
her  upl" 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   193 

Again  his  hand  swept  out  violently.  Again 
his  eyes  flashed  a  glance  into  hers,  only  now 
they  held  a  desperate  appeal. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Mrs.  Smithers,  let  me 
say  what  I  Ve  got  to  say,  and  take  it  in  the 
spirit  in  which  it  is  meant.  I  tell  you,  I  know 
what  I  'm  talking  about.  I  know  Gish!" 

Lee  heard  his  teeth  grit  for  an  instant,  the 
harsh  breath  he  drew  through  them.  Gasping 
a  little,  she  relaxed.  She  was  utterly  bewil- 
dered, but  her  sense  of  outrage  and  resentment 
was  fast  slipping  from  her.  There  was  a 
deadly  earnestness  about  the  man  at  her  side 
which  impressed  her  strongly;  vaguely  she 
realised  that  he  was  speaking  as  one  of  her 
own  kind  might  have  spoken,  also  she  was 
aware  of  a  subtle  change  in  his  tone  and  his 
accent.  She  spoke  abruptly: 

"  You  are  an  American?" 

Haines  looked  round  at  her  quickly,  then 
away  to  the  road  ahead  of  them.  She  fancied 
that  he  hesitated  before  replying,  but  when 
he  did  it  was  tersely. 

"  Yes.  And,  as  an  American,  I  know  a 
good  bit  more  about  Gish  and  his  reputation 
than  folks  over  here.  He  's  an  out-and-out 
rotter,  a  wrong  'un  to  the  core.  He  is  n't  fit 


194  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

to  breathe  the  same  air  as  a  decent  woman. 
His  touch  would  pollute  the  lowest!" 

He  drew  a  hard  breath  that  was  almost  a 
gasp  and  stopped.  Lee  stirred  among  her 
furs  uneasily,  but  she  no  longer  sought  to  stay 
him.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  his  face  but 
dimly  discernible  save  when  they  passed  a 
light;  her  hands  were  clasped  tightly  in  her 
lap.  / 

"  He  's  rich;  but  the  way  he  's  made  his 
money  would  n't  bear  investigation.  I  guess 
he  's  ruined  more  lives  and  wrecked  more 
homes  than  any  man  of  his  time.  If  you  folks 
could  know  him  for  what  he  really  is — know 
one  half  of  what  he  's  done — you  'd  hound 
him  out  of  society,  back  to  the  scum  where  he 
belongs.  I  'm  speaking  strongly,  but  I  know 
what  I  'm  talking  about.  He  wants  shooting 
— like  a  dangerous,  unclean  beast!" 

Lee  gasped  anew.  Her  eyes  were  wide  and 
dark  with  anxiety  and  a  growing  horror. 
Haines  was  labouring  under  very  strong  emo- 
tion; every  harshly  uttered  word  carried  con- 
viction, and  with  a  sudden  feeling  of  sickness 
she  thought  of  Terry.  Impulsively,  almost 
pleadingly,  she  leaned  forward. 

Haines!"   He  turned,  and  she  went  on 


u 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   195 

quickly,  with  quivering  lips.  "  Oh — Haines! 
Are  you  sure?  Sure  that  it  's  the  same  man — 
sure  that  he — he  's  really — what  you  say — ?" 

"  Sure!"  Haines  laughed  hoarsely.  "  I  'm 
sure,  all  right.  I  ought  to  be.  See  here  " — he 
slowed  the  car  suddenly  and  bent  forward — 
"  you  Ve  heard  of  the  Denham  Carson  case, 
have  n't  you?" 

Lee's  heart  leaped  to  her  throat;  involun- 
tarily she  shrank  back.  Haines  went  on 
rapidly,  without  appearing  to  notice. 

"  You  know  that  Denhara  Carson  spent 
years  in  prison  for  the  murder  of  his  wife. 
Well,  Gish  was  the  man  who  was  responsible 
for  putting  him  there!  Carson  was  a  fool — he 
got  himself  entangled  with  a  girl  he  did  n't 
care  a  cent  about.  He  let  her  blackmail  him, 
and  instead  of  buying  her  off  he  married  her. 
It  was  a  bad  marriage — a  sad  marriage.  The 
girl  was  n't  much  good,  and  she  was  weak  as 
water.  Gish  came  along,  and  turned  her 
head.  It  was  Roland  Gish  whose  name  was 
coupled  with  hers.  It  was  because  of  that 
Carson  went  to  see  her  that  fatal  night — the 
night  of  the  murder.  He  'd  stood  for  a  good 
deal,  had  Carson,  like  the  chivalrous,  quixotic 
fool  that  he  was — but  he  could  n't  stand  for 


196   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

that.  He  went  to  tell  her  she  'd  got  to  give 
up  Gish  or  he  'd  bring  an  action  for  divorce. 
.  .  .  You  know  what  happened." 

Lee  did  not  answer.  She  had  turned  her 
fur  collar  up  about  her  face  as  if  to  hide  its 
deadly  pallor,  and  the  hands  that  held  it  were 
trembling.  A  little  way  ahead  of  them 
gleamed  the  station  lights.  She  saw  them  as 
through  a  mist,  heard  Haines's  voice  as  if  from 
a  great  distance  away. 

"  That  's  one  of  the  things  Gish  did  — yet 
here  he  is,  an  honoured  guest — fooling  round 
that  kid  sister  of  yours.  Oh,  my  God!" 

They  glided  through  the  station  gates. 
Haines  wrenched  the  wheel  round,  brought 
the  car  to  the  platform  entrance,  and  stopped 
the  car.  He  sprang  out,  and  as  he  opened  the 
door  for  her  the  lights  shone  full  upon  his 
face.  Looking  down  at  it,  Lee  forgot  herself, 
and  the  shock  the  mention  of  Denham  Carson 
had  given  her.  It  was  drawn  and  strained 
and  white,  and  there  was  that  in  the  clear 
eyes  so  nearly  like  agony  that  she  gave  a 
little,  startled  murmur. 

"  You — you  '11  do  something?"  Haines 
asked.  "  You  '11  stop  this  damnable  thing 
going  any  further?  Terry  will  listen  to  you 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   197 

— believe  you — only  she  's  such  a  kid! — " 
His  voice  broke  oddly.  The  roar  of  the 
approaching  express  sounded  suddenly.  Very 
slowly  Lee  stepped  out  of  the  car.  Her  eyes 
were  still  on  his,  in  them  was  a  startled  ques- 
tion, a  deep  distress.  He  met  them  and  smiled 
a  crooked  little  smile. 

"  She  's  always  been  Terry  to  me — in  my 
heart!"  he  said  simply.  "  I  've  a  man's  feel- 
ings— and  she  twisted  me  round  her  little 
finger  from  the  very  first.  I — love  her  1" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

LEE  collected  a  thick  packet,  sealed  and 
securely  tied  with  red  tape  from  a  little,  be- 
spectacled, deferential  man,  who  accepted  her 
assertion  that  she  was  Smithers's  wife  without 
question,  with  her  explanation  of  the  latter's 
absence.  In  less  than  five  minutes  she  was  in 
the  car  again,  rolling  homeward  through  the 
frosty  night. 

She  did  not  speak  to  Haines,  but  now  and 
again  she  glanced  at  him  with  troubled  eyes. 
Beneath  her  perplexity  and  distress,  her  hor- 
ror at  what  he  had  told  her  of  Gish,  she  was 
conscious  of  a  new  interest  in  him.  The  way 
he  had  told  his  story  had  made  an  odd  appeal  to 
her.  And  for  the  first  time  she  realised  that, 
whatever  the  circumstances  of  his  entering 
her  husband's  service,  he  was,  most  distinctly, 
not  of  the  ordinary  servant  class. 

Nevertheless,  she  was  dismayed  and  per- 
turbed to  a  degree  at  his  declaration  of  his 
regard  for  Terry.  She  was  so  occupied  with 
the  whole  problem  that  she  did  not  notice  the 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   199 

gradual  slowing  down  of  the  car  until  it  came 
to  a  sudden,  jerky  halt. 

Then  she  looked  up  quickly.  Haines  was 
still  sitting  with  his  hands  on  the  wheel.  It 
struck  her  vaguely  that  he  showed  no  surprise, 
but  after  a  moment  he  got  out.  She  sat  while 
he  made  his  investigations,  glancing  about 
her.  They  were,  she  discovered,  on  the  nar- 
row road  leading  through  the  woods.  The 
trees  reared  themselves  bleakly  on  either  side 
of  it,  stretching  skeleton  branches  against  the 
shimmering  dark. 

Haines  straightened  himself  presently,  and 
came  back  to  her,  a  spanner  in  his  hand. 

"  Engine  trouble,"  he  explained  briefly. 
"  She  won't  budge  another  inch.  It  looks  like 
I  '11  have  to  cut  along  back  to  the  garage  and 
fetch  another  car.  We  '11  have  to  tow  this 
one  home." 

He  glanced  about  him,  swinging  the  span- 
ner, and  added,  in  answer  to  her  dismayed 
exclamation: 

"  I  won't  be  long;  but  maybe  you  'd  best 
take  shelter  in  that  hut  down  there."  He 
pointed  suddenly  to  a  hollow  clearing  below 
them  on  their  right.  A  faint  light  showed,  as 
from  a  half-hidden  window.  "  Gamekeepers 


200  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

use  it  sometimes  at  night — one  of  them  will 
be  around  somewhere  sure,  so  you  '11  be  quite 
safe  and  warm.  I  '11  see  you  down." 

Lee  hesitated  for  an  instant,  frowned,  and 
shrugged.  She  pulled  her  furs  closer  about 
her  and  stepped  into  the  slippery  road.  Haines 
steadied  her  as  they  made  their  way  through 
the  bracken.  There  came  no  answer  to  his 
knock  when  they  reached  the  hut,  and  he 
lifted  the  latch  and  pushed  the  door  open. 

Lee,  pausing  on  the  threshold,  glanced 
about  her.  A  hurricane  lamp  hung  from  a  nail 
on  the  wall,  there  were  a  few  glowing  embers 
in  a  rough  hearth,  and  the  faint  odour  of  to- 
bacco-smoke hung  about.  Haines  crossed  to 
the  fire,  poked  it,  glanced  about  him  and 
sniffed. 

"  One  of  the  keepers  here  to-night,  sure," 
he  told  her  easily.  "  He  '11  probably  be  back 
in  a  few  minutes.  I  '11  get  back  quick  as  I 
can." 

He  passed  out  and  closed  the  door  behind 
him.  Lee  heard  him  crashing  his  way  through 
the  bracken,  then  silence  fell  again.  For 
several  minutes  she  stood  looking  about  her, 
with  but  a  faint  curiosity.  Her  thoughts  were 
far  away,  her  mind  wholly  occupied  with 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   201 

the  unexpected  conversation  with  Haines — 
with  Terry,  and  with  the  man  who  was  still  a 
guest  beneath  her  roof. 

At  thought  of  him  she  shuddered.  Then, 
moving  nearer  the  fire,  she  slipped  her  furs 
from  her  shoulder,  and,  throwing  them  over 
the  back  of  the  wooden  chair,  sat  down. 

She  did  not  hear  a  sound  behind  her,  did 
not  know  that  she  was  not  alone,  until  a  hand 
touched  her  arm,  a  voice  spoke  her  name,  very 
low,  but  with  a  familiar  intonation,  a  vibrant, 
quivering  eagerness  that  brought  her  leaping 
to  her  feet,  trembling  all  over. 

"Lee!" 

With  the  light  of  the  hurricane  lamp  shining 
down  full  upon  him,  Denham  Carson  stood 
above  her.  And,  even  as  she  cried  out,  his 
arms  went  about  her.  Into  his  eyes  there 
leaped  a  sudden  fierce,  hot  passion.  Helpless, 
she  found  herself  caught,  and  held  close  —  so 
close  that  she  could  feel  the  thick  beating  of 
his  heart.  Then  his  lips  found  hers. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

INSTINCTIVELY,  almost  wildly,  Lee  had  strug- 
gled to  free  herself.  But  with  the  meeting  of 
their  lips  she  became  still,  as  though,  suddenly, 
her  strength  had  left  her.  She  lay  passive  in 
Carson's  hold,  with  closed  eyes,  and  as  at  last 
he  straightened  himself,  her  head  drooped 
limply  forward  against  his  shoulder. 

She  was  pitifully  white;  so  white  that  he 
gave  an  exclamation  of  mingled  remorse  and 
anxiety,  tightening  his  hold  upon  her. 

"  Lee!" 

His  voice  was  infinitely  gentle,  held  at  once 
remorse  and  a  caress.  At  the  sound  of  it  a 
shuddering  breath  left  her  lips — her  slender 
body  quivered.  Impulsively  Denham  Carson 
stooped  his  head  and  rested  his  cheek  against 
her  soft  hair. 

"  What  a  fool  I  am! "  he  said,  in  fierce  self- 
condemnation.  "  What  a  thoughtless  fool — 
to  frighten  you  so!  Lee — you  're  not  going 
to  faint?" 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  203 

She  stirred  anew  at  that,  caught  desperately 
at  her  self-control,  and,  straightening  herself, 
drew  back.  He  did  not  try  to  hold  her,  but 
let  his  arms  drop  to  his  sides  and  stood  looking 
at  her.  A  little  of  the  eager  light  had  died  out 
of  his  face,  the  vividly  blue  eyes  looked 
troubled.  Lee  met  them  and  the  colour  flooded 
into  her  pale  cheeks.  Involuntarily  she 
lifted  one  hand,  pressing  the  back  of  it  against 
those  trembling  lips  his  kisses  had  bruised 
and  scorched. 

Yet  the  eyes  that  looked  back  into  his 
were  neither  angry  nor  resentful.  They  held 
only  a  shrinking  bewilderment  and  a  rather 
piteous  questioning. 

"  No — no ! "  she  answered  his  question  me- 
chanically; and  added:  "  But — I  don't  under- 
stand! How  did  you  come  here — ?"  She  broke 
off. 

Carson  replied  swiftly,  almost  curtly: 

"  I  Ve  been  here  all  the  time.  Stumbled 
across  this  place  that  night — you  remember 
— and  stayed  here  ever  since.  I  Ve  kept  a 
good  lookout,  of  course — the  keepers  don't 
come  here  often,  and  other  folks  scarcely  ever. 
It  has  n't  been  difficult  to  dodge  them.  And 
it 's  as  good  a  place  as  any  to  hide  in.  Besides  " 


204  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

— Lee  looked  away  quickly  from  the  deepen- 
ing warmth  of  his  eyes — "  I  wanted  to  be — 
near  you!  I  had  to  be!" 

Lee  drew  a  long  breath,  and  smote  her 
hands  together  softly,  despairingly. 

"  Oh,"  she  whispered  shakily,  "  but  you  're 
quite  mad — quite  mad!" 

Carson  laughed.  It  was  a  wholesome, 
hearty,  boyish  sound  that  filled  the  whole 
cabin. 

"  Sure!  And  so  you  Ve  told  me  before!  As 
I  think  I  told  you  on  another  occasion — most 
men  who  are  very  much  in  love  are  more  or 
less  mad!  .  .  ." 

"  Don't!" 

She  turned  sharply  away,  reaching  out  for 
her  coat.  But  Carson  stood  between  her  and 
the  door,  and  he  did  not  move.  After  a  mo- 
ment, weakly,  she  let  her  hand  fall.  Carson 
swept  his  glance  over  her,  from  the  averted 
head  and  delicate  profile  to  the  absurd  gold 
brocade  slipper  that  she  was  tapping  nerv- 
ously on  the  uneven  boarding  of  the  rough, 
bare  floor.  The  line  of  her  long  throat,  the 
drooping,  slim  shoulders  and  slender  arms 
shone  warmly  white  in  the  leaping  firelight. 
Impulsively  he  went  a  step  nearer. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   205 

"  I  must,"  he  said  very  low;  and  now  there 
was  in  his  voice  a  hoarse  note  of  passion  that 
made  her  fling  him  a  swift,  panic-stricken 
glance.  "  I  must!  I  do  love  you,  Lee — I  Ve 
loved  you  ever  since  that  night  on  Ruff's 
Island.  .  .  ." 

His  outstretched  hand  touched  her  arm. 
She  caught  her  breath  sharply,  shaken  by  the 
rising  tempest  of  her  own  emotions.  She  was 
incapable  of  very  clear  thought.  She  only 
knew  that  beneath  the  deepening  note  of  pas- 
sion in  his  voice  her  heart  was  stirring  and 
throbbing  wildly.  She  longed  to  break  away 
from  his  touch,  to  rush  out  into  the  night;  but 
she  had  to  stay.  She  wanted  to  close  her 
hands  over  her  ears  and  shut  away  the  mad- 
dening tenderness  of  his  voice;  but  she  had  to 
hear. 

She  knew,  too,  that  presently  she  would 
despise  herself  for  her  weakness,  would  lash 
herself  with  scorn  for  her  yielding.  At  the 
moment  the  personality  of  the  man  dominated 
her  utterly — that,  and  something  that  was 
growing  and  strengthening  irresistibly  within 
herself. 

"  I  had  to  be  near  you,  Lee ! "  Carson  spoke 
again,  his  voice  shaken,  his  eyes  beginning  to 


206  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

glow  anew.  "  Call  it  madness,  folly,  what  you 
will — I  could  n't  go  away.  I  had  to  see  you 
sometimes — hear  your  voice.  .  .  .  But  being 
near  has  made  it  harder  to  keep  silent.  God ! 
How  I  Ve  longed  to  say  a  little  of  what  is  in 
my  heart  for  you!  How  I  Ve  longed  to  be 
with  you  alone — to  hold  you  close  to  me  ... 
to  kiss  your  lips!" 

His  fingers  fastened  upon  her  arm  above 
the  dimpled  elbow,  tightened  there,  tensely. 
His  breath  came  unevenly,  his  voice  was 
husky. 

"  Above  all,"  he  went  on,  "  how  I  Ve  longed 
to  hear  you  say  that  you  care,  too!  That  you 
love  me,  Lee — that  you  love  me!" 

"Ah!" 

The  word  was  a  choked  cry.  She  wrenched 
her  arm  free  and  shrank  back.  There  was 
something  of  the  wildness  of  desperation  in 
her  eyes,  the  terror  of  a  snared  bird.  To  Car- 
son it  was  a  revelation  that  sent  the  blood 
pounding  hotly  to  his  temples,  and  set  him 
shaking  suddenly  all  over.  Upon  her  little, 
piteous  cry  there  followed  a  silence  that  was 
painful  in  its  intensity.  Carson  broke  it.  He 
spoke  haltingly,  stumblingly,  yet  on  a  quiver- 
ing, rising  note  of  triumph  and  eagerness. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   207 

"  You  do  love  me,  Lee!  .  .  .  Oh,  my  God, 
girl!  I  Ve  hoped  it — hoped  it  with  every 
heartbeat,  every  fibre  of  me — but  I  could 
never  be  really  sure!  And  I  Ve  got  to  be 
sure,  Lee — I  Ve  got  to  be  sure.  .  .  ." 

His  hands  were  outstretched  to  her,  sup- 
plicating. His  lips  were  unsteady,  his  eyes 
ablaze. 

"  Say  it,  Lee ! "  he  urged  again.  "  Lee — 
Lee!  .  .  ." 

His  arms  closed  about  her,  but  she  strug- 
gled free,  thrusting  him  away  from  her, 
stumbling  back  against  the  wooden  chair  and 
dropping  into  it  weakly.  She  held  one  white 
arm  upflung  across  her  eyes,  as  though  to  shut 
away  the  flame  of  his.  Then  suddenly  she  let 
it  fall,  and,  turning  her  face  against  the  thick 
fur  of  her  coat,  began  to  cry  helplessly. 

"  I  ought  to  hate  you! "  she  wailed.  "  But 
—I  can't!  I  can't.  .  .  ." 

•  •••*••• 

Minutes  later  she  stirred,  sighed,  and  sat 
upright.  Denham  Carson  was  kneeling  at  her 
side,  his  face  hidden  against  her  knees.  His 
arms  were  about  her.  At  her  movement  he, 
too,  stirred  and  looked  up.  There  was  a  light 
in  his  face  that  made  her  catch  a  sharp  breath 


208  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

and  brought  the  blood  flooding  pitilessly  up 
over  her  throat  and  cheeks  in  a  rose-red  wave 
that  burned  to  her  temples. 

Even  as  she  made  an  instinctive,  panicky 
gesture  to  thrust  him  from  her  there  came 
from  without  the  faint  note  of  a  motor-car 
horn.  Lee  stiffened  where  she  sat;  then  with 
a  little  gasp  she  strove  to  get  to  her  feet. 

"  It  's  Haines ! "  she  whispered,  as  Carson's 
arms  refused  to  unclose.  "  You — you  must 
get  away,  quickly — oh,  quickly!" 

She  was  on  her  feet  now,  and  the  man  rose 
with  her. 

He  still  held  her,  his  eyes  clung  to  hers. 
His  lips  were  not  altogether  steady. 

"  I  Ve  got  to  talk  to  you,  Lee ! "  he  whis- 
pered back,  huskily.  "  There  are  things  I 
must  say  to  you.  .  .  .  Promise  you  will  come 
here  again,  soon?" 

The  sound  of  the  horn  had  ceased.  Follow- 
ing it  came  the  unmistakable  hurry  and 
stumble  of  heavy  steps  among  the  frosty 
bracken. 

Carson  bent  his  head  lower. 

"  Promise!"  he  urged.    "  Promise!" 

Lee's  lips  were  trembling.  She  closed  her 
eyes  desperately  against  the  pleading  in  his. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  209 

When  she  opened  them  again,  they  were  dark, 
almost  tragic  with  suffering  and  unwilling  sur- 
render. 
"  I — promise!"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XX 

LEE,  her  huge  fur  collar  hiding  all  of  her  face 
save  her  unnaturally  wide  eyes,  delivered  the 
packet  of  papers  into  Frost's  hands,  and, 
avoiding  those  rooms  in  which  her  guests  were 
congregated,  went  swiftly  to  her  own. 

Dropping  into  a  chair,  she  sat  staring  at  the 
shadows  in  the  faintly  firelit  darkness.  She 
had  forgotten  that  she  might  be  missed  down- 
stairs, had  forgotten  her  husband,  Terry,  and 
Haines  .  .  .  everything  save  Denham  Car- 
son's presence,  the  strength  of  his  arms,  and 
the  touch  of  his  mouth  upon  hers. 

She  was  stripped  bare,  to-night,  of  all  pre- 
tence, face  to  face  with  that  truth  which  she 
had  refused  to  acknowledge,  which  she  had 
hidden  half  guiltily,  but  of  which  she  had  been 
aware  as  long  ago  as  that  misty  morning  when 
she  had  rowed  herself  away  from  Ruff's  Island. 

It  was  a  truth  that  left  her  dazed  and  numb, 
while  it  dominated  her.  She  had  forgotten  the 
black  shadow  that  hung  over  Denham  Carson. 
She  felt  only  as  though  the  flame  of  his  pas- 
sion still  enwrapped  her,  waking  answering 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  211 

fires  within  her  own  soul — unsuspected,  fierce 
fires  that  left  her  trembling  and  afraid. 

She  loved  Denham  Carson.  She  made  no 
longer  any  attempt  to  deny  it,  or  to  thrust  the 
knowledge  from  her.  And  presently,  with  a 
long,  shuddering  sigh  that  was  almost  a  moan, 
she  turned  and  laid  her  forehead  wearily 
against  the  silken  cushions  piled  about  her. 

Here  Terry  found  her  twenty  minutes  later. 

The  girl  dashed  in  with  her  usual  impetuous 
lack  of  ceremony,  halted  with  a  little  excla- 
mation at  finding  the  room  in  darkness,  then, 
as  Lee  stirred  and  looked  up,  went  towards 
her  quickly. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  the  car  come  back.  .  .  . 
Why,  Lee!  How  queer  you  look!" 

She  had  switched  on  the  light,  and  stood 
frowning  questioningly  into  the  other  girl's 
face.  Lee  covered  her  eyes.  When  she  let 
her  hands  fall  a  moment  later,  she  had  re- 
covered much  of  her  calmness,  and  answered 
quite  quietly: 

"  Do  I?  ...  It  was  bitterly  cold,  and  the 
car  broke  down.  I  hope  I  have  n't  seemed 
very  neglectful — I  '11  come  down  in  a  minute." 

She  put  a  nervous  hand  against  her  temples, 
and  Terry,  still  frowning,  swung  herself  on  to 


212   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

the  broad  back  of  the  brocaded  chesterfield. 

"  Much  better  get  into  something  warm  and 
cosy  and  stay  here! "  she  advised.  "  They  're 
all  playing  cards  or  dancing  in  the  music-room 
— you  won't  be  missed.  'Sides,  I  want  a  quiet 
chat  with  you,  Lee.  I  never  seem  to  get  you 
alone  lately." 

Lee  sank  back  again  among  her  cushions. 
She  shrank  from  the  thought  of  going  among 
her  guests  in  her  present  mood;  yet  she  was 
glad  not  to  be  alone.  With  an  effort  she  con- 
centrated her  thoughts  upon  Terry  and  her 
chatter,  brought  her  mind  back  to  the  problem 
of  the  girl  and  Roland  Gish — and  Haines. 

Terry  now  was  swinging  one  slim,  silk- 
stockinged  leg  and  looking  into  the  fire  with 
a  rather  odd  expression  in  her  eyes.  She  was 
still  chattering,  but  fitfully,  and  with  more 
than  her  usual  inconsequence.  Lee  watched 
her  with  a  shadow  creeping  into  her  face. 
After  a  moment  she  spoke,  a  little  hesitantly. 

"  Terry — I  want  to  say  something  to  you. 
It— it  's  about  Mr.  Gish." 

Terry  looked  up  quickly.  A  little  colour 
had  crept  into  her  cheeks,  the  expression  of 
her  eyes  was  defensive. 

"  I  hope  it 's  something  nice! "  she  returned, 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   213 

her  clear  young  voice  faintly  shrill.  "  I  like 
Roly  Gish — quite  a  good  deal." 

Lee's  fine  brows  met.  A  sudden  distaste 
tilted  her  lips  upward ;  the  shadow  in  her  eyes 
deepened. 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  she  said  steadily,  "  to  hear  it! 
I  don't.  And — it  seems  to  me — Mr.  Gish's 
feeling  for  you  is  more  than  liking." 

Terry  slid  down  from  her  perch  and  moved 
slowly  on  to  the  hearth  before  Lee's  chair. 
Her  brown  head  was  flung  up,  her  usually 
merry  mouth  was  a  trifle  compressed. 

"  You  're  not  being  very  nice,  Lee!  .  .  . 
What  if  it  is?" 

Lee  got  up.    Her  eyes  met  Terry's  steadily. 

"  Just  that  he  will  try  to  make  you  think 
that  your  feeling  is  the  same — that  you  love 
him.  You  don't  love  him,  Terry?" 

Despite  the  note  of  anxious  interrogation 
the  words  were  uttered  rather  in  assertion 
than  question.  Terry  wriggled  a  pair  of  slim 
shoulders  impatiently. 

"  But,"  she  declared  cheerfully,  "  I  do!" 

There  was  no  tremor  in  the  clear  voice,  no 
added  colour  in  the  healthy,  pretty  face.  The 
red-brown  eyes  were  wide,  unembarrassed. 
Lee  looked  deeply  into  them  for  several  sec- 


214  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

onds,  and  an  oddly  tender  smile  curved  her 
mouth. 

"Oh,  Terry!  You  child.  .  .  .  You  only 
know  how  to  spell  love  as  yet.  ..." 

Terry  wriggled  her  shoulders  again. 

"You  're  being  very  horrid!"  she  com- 
plained. "  I  thought  you  'd  be  sympathetic — 
though,  of  course,  I  can't  help  seeing  that  you 
don't  care  about  Roly.  I  don't  know  why — 
he  's  quite  the  nicest  man  /  've  ever  met." 

"  Good  Heavens!"  There  was  that  in  Lee's 
tone  that  sent  the  half-defiant  complacency 
out  of  Terry's  face,  brought  her  glance  flashing 
to  the  troubled  one  above  her.  "  The  man  's 
impossible!"  Lee  went  on  abruptly.  "His 
attentions  are — are  an  insult.  .  .  ." 

"Leel" 

"  It  's  true.  Had  I  guessed  just  what  kind 
of  man  he  was — I  would  n't  have  received 
him.  I  can't  imagine  how  Jason  let  me! — 
even  hospitality  has  limits.  And  Roland  Gish 
is — is.  .  .  .  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  talk  about 
him.  But  I  Ve  learned  enough  about  him  to- 
night—" 

"To-night?"    Terry's   brows   flashed   up. 

Lee  made  a  quick  gesture,  blundered  on, 
off  her  guard,  and  stopped  with  bitten  lip. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   215 

"  Haines  told  me  about  him — " 

"Raines!"  There  was  a  choked  fury  in 
Terry's  voice.  Her  eyes  were  ablaze,  her  face 
quite  white.  Words,  for  the  moment,  were 
beyond  her,  and  Lee  flung  out  her  hands  in  a 
quick  movement  of  distress. 

"  Terry!  Oh,  my  dear,  you  don't  suppose  I 
would  have  listened  if — if  I  had  n't  known 
that  he  was  speaking  the  truth.  ...  I  Ve 
been  afraid  for  you  ever  since  Teresa  brought 
the  man  here.  I  knew  from  Jason  he  was  not 
— was  not  a  desirable  acquaintance.  I  begged 
Teresa  to—" 

"  I  Ve  heard  enough ! "  Terry's  voice,  hard, 
inflexible,  struck  coldly  across  the  stammered 
words.  She  swung  round,  white  skirts  fanning 
about  her,  white  face  set,  and  moved  to  the 
door.  As  she  wrenched  it  open,  she  glanced 
back  over  her  shoulder,  eyes  smouldering. 

"  Roland  Gish  asked  me  to  marry  him  to- 
night," she  said.  "  I  'm  to  give  him  my  answer 
to-morrow.  I — shall  say  yes!" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  formal  announcement  of  her  daughter's 
engagement  to  Roland  Gish  was  made  trium- 
phantly by  Teresa  Dorice  as  early  as  the  lun- 
cheon hour  next  day.  She  was  almost  trem- 
bling with  excitement;  Roland  Gish  wore  an 
air  of  deep  satisfaction,  and  Terry,  finding 
herself  the  centre  of  attraction  and  some  one 
to  be  envied  and  congratulated,  was  in  almost 
boisterous  good  spirits. 

Only  Lee,  sitting  apart,  stunned  and  dumb 
and  immeasurably  distressed,  detected  a  cer- 
tain hardness  in  her  laughter  sometimes,  a 
glint  of  defiance  in  her  eyes.  But  it  was  ob- 
vious that  she  was  more  than  content,  and 
that  Gish's  loverlike  attentions  really  pleased 
and  flattered  her. 

For  Lee  that  luncheon  seemed  interminable. 
The  chatter  and  laughter,  the  gay  badinage, 
made  her  wince  and  bite  her  lip,  and  it  was 
with  a  long  sigh  of  relief  that  she  escaped  at 
last. 

Jason  Smithers  was  still  confined  to  his 
room,  and  she  found  Frost  waiting  with  a 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   217 

message  from  him  asking  her  to  go  to  him  at 
once.  As  she  passed  into  her  apartments  he 
spoke  her  name  sharply,  hoarsely. 

"Lee!" 

The  girl  started,  looking  at  him  with  a 
sudden  little  flicker  of  bewilderment  in  her 
eyes.  She  had  never  heard  him  speak  quite 
like  that  before,  the  whole  tone  of  the  hesi- 
tant, rather  quavering  voice  had  subtly  al- 
tered. 

"  Lee!  Is  this  thing  true — that  Terry  has 
promised  to  marry  that — to  marry  Gish?" 

Again  Lee  shot  him  a  half-puzzled  glance. 
He  was  leaning  forward,  his  white  hands  grip- 
ping the  arms  of  his  chair,  and  was  evidently 
labouring  under  a  stress  of  great  emotion.  She 
bent  her  head  slowly,  without  speaking. 

"  Great  God!"  Smithers  made  a  movement 
as  if  to  rise,  and  checked  himself.  "  But  it  's 
unthinkable!  It  must  not  be!  That  man — 
and  a  child  like  Terry!  That—" 

"  Hush!"  She  went  nearer  to  him  quickly, 
really  alarmed  at  his  manner.  She  added 
quietly,  rather  hopelessly:  "  I — wish  I  had 
known  as  much  about  Mr.  Gish  a  short  time 
ago  as  I  do  to-day.  At  least  I  could  have 
undeceived  Terry — " 


218  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

She  hesitated,  unconscious  of  the  note  of 
reproach  in  her  voice. 

Smithers  stirred  and  reached  out  a  hand 
to  her.  His  lips  twitched. 

"  I  was  a  fool!"  he  said.  "  A  selfish  fool! 
I  ought  to  have  thought — " 

He  stopped  rather  abruptly;  then  added: 

"  But  something  must  be  done.  Terry  must 
not  take  so  terrible  a  step.  The  man  is 
unspeakable — the  utterest  cad!" 

"  I  know!"  Lee's  voice  was  weary.  "  But 
Terry  won't  believe  it.  It  would  need  some 
time  and  a  considerable  amount  of  proof  to 
convince  her — or  other  people — that  he  is 
anything  but  what  he  appears.  And  any 
attempt  at  interference  would  only  precipi- 
tate matters.  If  we  are  to  prevent  this  mar- 
riage, we  shall  have  to  go  to  work  carefully." 

Her  husband  opened  his  lips  and  closed 
them  again.  Lee,  standing  beside  him,  pro- 
ceeded to  sketch  briefly  her  interview  of  the 
night  before  with  Terry.  Smithers  listened 
without  comment,  sitting  with  his  chin 
dropped  forward,  frowning  fiercely. 

"  I  blundered  hopelessly,"  Lee  added  mis- 
erably. There  was  a  sound  of  tears  in  her 
voice  and  he  stirred  uneasily. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   219 

"  It  was  not  your  fault,  child!  If  it  comes 
to  that,  it  is  I  who  am  to  blame  for  the  whole 
wretched  business.  .  .  .  But  it  '11  be  all  right. 
I  '11  do  my  utmost  to  make  it  right." 

Lee  made  a  gesture  of  her  hands  and  let 
them  fall.  For  several  minutes  there  was  a 
troubled  silence.  Lee  broke  it,  irrelevantly. 
Smithers  had  turned  his  face  slightly  to  the 
light  and  she  could  see  him  more  clearly. 

"  Have  you  knocked  yourself?"  she  asked. 
"  There  's  such  a  brown  mark  on  your  fore- 
head— there!" 

She  laid  a  finger  lightly  on  the  spot. 
Smithers  started  almost  violently,  then  un- 
expectedly reached  up  and  caught  her  hand, 
drawing  it  down  over  his  eyes,  holding  the 
pink  palm  close  against  his  lips. 

For  an  instant  Lee  stood  motionless.  Then 
with  a  choked  cry  she  snatched  her  hand 
away.  Her  face  was  flaming;  the  memory  of 
last  night — of  Denham  Carson — seared  her. 
Smithers's  caress  had  brought  back  anew  a 
suffocating  consciousness  of  guilt — of  wrong- 
doing. An  overwhelming  shame  and  self- 
scorn  scourged  her. 

"  Why,  child!—" 

She  heard  her  husband's  voice,  suddenly 


220  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

gentle,  as  she  caught  her  hands  up  over  her 
hot  face.  Then,  in  the  other  room,  a  step 
sounded — on  the  threshold  Frost  coughed  dis- 
creetly; and,  precipitately,  Lee  turned  and 
fled.  " 

Lee  spent  a  wretched,  unrest ful  hour  in 
her  own  room.  Later,  making  her  way  list- 
lessly to  the  stairway,  she  encountered  Teresa 
Dorice  at  her  room  door.  Her  eyes  were  hard 
and  bright  with  anger;  the  unbecoming  flush 
that  temper  brought  was  hot  in  her  cheeks. 
Behind  her  Terry  was  standing.  She,  too, 
was  flushed,  her  mouth  mutinous,  her  eyes 
aflame  with  defiance.  It  needed  but  one  glance 
at  both  of  them  to  tell  Lee  that  something 
had  put  Teresa  out  seriously,  and  that  Terry's 
inflammable  temper  had  been  fanned  to  fur- 
nace heat  and  was  wholly  dominating  her. 
Interrogative,  distressed,  she  paused,  and 
Mrs.  Dorice  lifted  a  clenched  hand  in  which 
was  a  crumpled  note. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said  thickly,  "  this  is  your 
doing!"  Then,  as  Lee  stared,  "Read  it! 
Roland  has  just  sent  it  up  to  us!" 

Silently  Lee  took  the  paper  and  read: 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   221 

Mr.  Smithers  regretfully  requests  Mr.  Roland 
Gish  to  make  it  convenient  to  leave  Brookbridge 
to-night.  Mr.  Gish's  notoriety  in  the  United 
States  of  America  has  become  known  to  Mr. 
Smithers,  which  will  doubtless  be  sufficient  ex- 
planation of  his  seeming  inhospitality.  .  .  . 

As  silently  Lee  gave  the  note  back.  The 
distress  in  her  eyes  deepened;  she  looked 
almost  appealingly  at  Terry.  But  Teresa 
spoke  before  the  girl  could. 

"  I  '11  never  forgive  you  for  this,  Lee — 
never!  I  Ve  got  a  good  deal  piled  up  against 
you,  anyhow,  and  this  about  makes  the  limit! 
And  I  '11  take  care  I  get  even  with  you  for  it 
— somehow,  some  day — and  with  that  inter- 
fering, domineering,  senile  caricature  of  a  hus- 
band of  yours!  .  .  .  For  the  rest,  you  might 
as  well  know  that  when  Roland  leaves  here 
it  will  be  to  make  arrangements  for  an  im- 
mediate marriage!  Terry  and  I  join  him  as 
soon  as  we  hear  from  him  that  he  has  the 
licence!  .  .  ." 

Her  voice  caught  and  broke  hysterically. 
Terry,  with  a  not  too  gentle  hand,  pulled  her 
back  into  the  room.  Lee,  white-lipped  but 
composed,  passed  on,  and  down  the  stairs  to 
her  waiting  guests. 


222   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

When,  some  time  later  she  was  about  to 
return  to  her  room  to  dress  for  dinner,  a  serv- 
ant came  so  ft- footed  to  her  side. 

"  Haines  is  in  the  library,  ma'am.  He 
wishes  to  know  if  it  will  be  convenient  for 
you  to  speak  to  him  for  a  moment." 

Lee  started.  She  had  nearly  forgotten 
Haines.  For  an  instant  she  hesitated,  then 
she  nodded. 

"  Thank  you.  I  will  go  to  the  library  now," 
she  said. 

She  found  the  chauffeur  standing  by  the 
uncurtained  windows  staring  at  nothing.  As 
he  turned  to  her,  the  look  in  the  boyish  face 
made  her  cry  out  in  quick  pity  and  distress. 
He  appeared  years  older,  his  mouth  was 
twisted  and  grim,  his  eyes  haggard. 

"Haines!"  She  uttered  the  word  breath- 
lessly. "  Don't— don't  look  like  that!  .  .  ." 

She  broke  off.  In  a  few  long  strides  he  had 
reached  her  side.  His  lips  were  twitching  un- 
controllably. 

"  It 's  true,  then?"  His  voice  seemed  to  her 
to  hold  a  savage  accusation. 

She  threw  out  a  protesting  hand. 

"  Yes."  Her  voice  shook  a  little.  Again 
she  found  herself  disregarding  this  boy's 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  223 

position  in  her  household,  and  speaking  to 
him  as  to  an  equal.  "  Terry  has  consented 
to  marry — Mr.  Gish.  Mr.  Smithers — has,  I 
am  afraid,  precipitated  matters  by  intimating 
that  he  finds  Mr.  Gish  an  unwelcome  and  un- 
desirable guest.  ...  He  has  already  left." 
She  hesitated,  turning  her  eyes  from  his  face, 
and  added:  "  I  understand  that  he  is  making 
preparations  for  an — an  immediate  marriage. 
Terry  and  Mrs.  Dorice  say  that  they  are  join- 
ing him  in  a  few  days." 

"  My  God!"  Haines  recoiled  as  though  she 
had  struck  him.  Then  he  reached  forward 
and  caught  her  wrist.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say 
she  knows — knows  the  sort  of  man  he  is,  and 
still  cares  enough — " 

"  Cares  I"  Lee  faced  him  again,  her  head 
flung  up,  her  voice  and  eyes  half  scornful. 
"  Cares! — I  tell  you,  Terry  no  more  knows 
what  caring  means — what  it  is  to  love  than 
the  veriest  baby.  She  's  infatuated,  flattered. 
Men  have  treated  her  like  a  child  or  a  school- 
girl hitherto.  He  does  n't.  If  she  's  in  love 
at  all,  she  's  in  love  with  love ! " 

Her  breath  caught,  but  she  went  on  again 
before  he  could  speak,  passionately,  tensely: 

"  She  's  a  child — a  headstrong,  wild,  impres- 


224  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

sionable  child.  When  she  gets  angry,  she 
loses  all  sense  of  balance — and  she  's  angry 
now!  Angry  at  interference — angry  at  what 
she  looks  upon  as  your  impertinence  in  intrud- 
ing upon  her  affairs.  .  .  .  Oh,  I  muddled 
tilings  wretchedly  last  night,  Haines.  I  tried 
to  make  her  see — the  truth.  And  I  failed  igno- 
miniously.  Between  us  we  Ve  flung  her  into 
the  man's  arms.  And  there  's  nothing  I  can 
do — nothing  anybody  can  do!" 

She  threw  her  hands  wide,  despairingly,  and 
let  them  fall.  Her  eyes  were  almost  as  tragic 
as  his  own. 

"  Whatever  she  is  told  of  him  now,"  she 
went  on,  "  she  will  refuse  to  believe  .  .  . 
even  if  she  listens.  And  she  is  beyond  forcible 
restraint — neither  I  nor  my  husband  have  any 
power  over  her.  She  has  her  mother's  approval 
and  sanction." 

She  stopped.  Haines  had  turned  his  back 
on  her  and  was  staring  out  of  the  window  at 
nothing  again.  She  saw  that  his  hands  were 
clenched  and  trembling  at  his  sides. 

"  God! "  he  whispered — "  I  wish  I  'd  broken 
Gish's  back  the  day  he  came  here !  He  deserves 
it.  First  Carson's  life  ruined — and  now — " 

He  broke  off  abruptly,  swinging  round.  His 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  225 

eyes  were  on  her  face.  Something  in  their 
gaze,  something  earnest,  inexplicably  pitying 
and  understanding,  startled  her.  With  his 
next  words  her  heart  leaped,  and  seemed  to 
stop  beating. 

"  Carson  's  a  white  man  all  through!"  he 
said.  "  He  would  n't  strike  any  woman — 
like  they  said  he  did!  .  .  ." 

He  turned  away  again.  Lee  moved  to  a 
chair  and  sat  down  weakly.  Without  looking 
at  her  Haines  said: 

"  For  Terry's  own  sake — if  I  need  it — may 
I  rely  on  a  little  of  your  help?" 

Lee  answered  him  with  stiff  lips.  "  What 
do  you  mean?" 

There  was  an  attempt  at  hauteur  in  her 
manner  now,  but  there  was  terror  too — ter- 
ror of  what  he  might  know,  what  his  words 
implied.  He  sensed  it  and  came  quickly  back 
to  her.  His  young  face  was  changed — he 
smiled  suddenly,  rather  wonderfully,  and 
again  with  that  strange,  subtle  suggestion  of 
understanding.  Then  it  hardened  again,  the 
mouth  grew  grim. 

"Just  that  Terry  has  got  to  be  saved!" 
he  answered  simply.  And  added,  while  she 
waited,  dumb: 


226  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  I  guess — after  all — it  's  up  to  me  to  take 
a  decisive  hand  in  the  game!" 

There  was  something  in  his  voice  that 
brought  her  glance  quickly  to  his  face — a  deep 
warmth,  a  grim  determination,  a  little  of 
something  oddly  exulting.  .  .  . 

He  met  her  eyes  and  smiled.  The  smile 
was  quite  without  mirth,  but  it  brought  a 
blue  flame  to  his  own  eyes  that  made  her 
blink.  He  was  already  at  the  door.  In  sud- 
den apprehension  Lee  checked  him. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  .  .  .  ?" 

He  looked  back.  The  flame  was  still  in 
his  eyes. 

"  Employ  the  methods  of  the  uncivilised 
and  primitive  male!"  he  told  her;  and  went. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A  COUPLE  of  afternoons  later,  as  Lee  sat  list- 
lessly turning  the  pages  of  a  book  after  lunch- 
eon, her  maid  came  to  her  with  a  note. 

"  A  boy  from  the  village  met  Frost  and 
gave  it  to  him,  ma'am.    He  said  there  is  no 


answer." 


Lee  took  the  flimsy,  cheap  envelope  with 
its  awkward  pencilling  of  her  name,  and 
opened  it.  Upon  the  half-sheet  of  note- 
paper  it  contained  was  written  the  one  word: 

"Come!" 

For  a  long  time  Lee  sat  very  still.  A  wild 
surge  of  mingled  resentment  and  longing 
beat  up  within  her  suffocatingly.  The  long- 
ing conquered.  Despising  herself  for  her 
weakness,  conscious  of  an  ever-increasing 
sense  of  guilt,  she  got  into  out-of-door  apparel 
hurriedly,  without  summoning  her  maid,  and 
went  out. 

As  she  hurried  down  the  drive,  she  told 
herself  rather  piteously  that  she  must  make 
Carson  understand  that  this  sort  of  thing 
could  not  go  on  ...  must  not  go  on.  But, 


228  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

once  more  in  his  presence,  the  adoration  of 
his  eyes  caressing  her,  fanning  anew  the  flame 
of  this  new-found  love  of  hers,  her  determina- 
tion weakened.  There  was  appeal  in  her 
protests  rather  than  decision,  and  he  swept 
them  ruthlessly  aside. 

"  I  Ve  got  to  see  you  sometimes,"  he  told 
her.  "  It  may  be  wrong — mad — what  you 
will,  but  it  's  got  to  be.  I  'm  going  to  steal 
some  hours  of  sweetness  from  life,  Lee,  what- 
ever the  consequences.  .  .  .  Unless  you  come 
to  me  here,  it  will  end  in  my  seeking  you! " 

But  she  had  cried  out  at  that,  in  a  panic 
of  dismay. 

"  No,  no!  Oh,  you  must  not.  .  .  .  You 
might  be  seen.  You  would  be  jeopardising 
your  freedom  every  moment!"  And  had 
added,  miserably — "  But  it  is  wrong,  this, 
Denham — all  wrong!  I  feel  despicable — 
wicked — ashamed ! " 

The  vivid  blue  eyes  had  softened  to  an 
infinite  tenderness. 

"  Poor  little  girl!  Oh,  my  dear,  if  any  one 
is  doing  wrong,  it  is  I.  But  we  can't  help 
where  we  love,  Lee !  And  I  ask  of  you  but  an 
occasional  hour  of  your  time — the  sound  of 
your  voice  and  the  touch  of  your  hands — of 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   229 

your  lips — to  remember  and  dream  about!" 

And  then,  a  moment  later,  he  had  flung 
away  from  her,  his  face  fallen  into  haggard 
lines,  the  blue  eyes  very  tired. 

"  God!  If  I  were  only  free!"  he  had  cried. 
"  Free  to  move  among  my  fellow-men  ...  it 
would  all  be  so  different,  Lee!" 

The  girl  had  shaken  her  head  a  little 
drearily. 

"  It  could  not  be  different.  You  are  for- 
getting— my  husband!" 

She  had  felt  his  eyes  on  her  then,  with 
something  in  their  depths  that  puzzled  her, 
that  she  could  not  fathom.  He  had  answered 
very  quietly: 

"  No.    I  am  not  forgetting  your  husband! " 

There  had  been  the  same  puzzling  quality 
in  his  voice.  But  he  had  said  no  more. 

As,  later,  she  had  come  homeward  up  the 
drive,  her  stepmother  had  watched  her  idly 
from  a  window. 

"  I  sometimes  think  Lee  's  crazy!"  she  ob- 
served to  Terry,  who  was  shaking  raindrops 
energetically  from  a  yellow  tarn.  "  Fancy  let- 
ting a  wretched  begging  note  drag  her  to  the 
village  on  a  day  like  this!" 

"  Lee  did  n't  go  to  the  village,"  Terry  inter- 


230  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

polated.  "  I  saw  her  in  the  woods  from  the 
upper  road  when  I  was  exercising  the  dogs — 
quite  a  way  in  them — near  the  keeper's  hut. 
.  .  .  Bother!  I  believe  this  tarn  's  spoiled!" 

"  But  her  maid  said — "  Teresa  was  begin- 
ning, and  shut  her  lips  abruptly  upon  the 
words.  She  watched  Lee  thoughtfully  until 
she  was  lost  to  view,  and  there  was  a  new,  odd 
little  look  of  speculation  in  her  pansy  eyes 
that  might  have  startled  Lee  considerably  had 
she  seen  it. 

That  surreptitious  meeting  with  Denham 
Carson  was  not  the  last,  in  spite  of  Lee's 
desperate  resolutions.  The  heart-hunger  she 
had  come  to  know,  and  her  fear  that  Carson 
might  do  something  reckless  in  an  effort  to  see 
her  if  she  did  not  go  to  him,  were  stronger 
than  her  sense  of  wrongdoing,  of  infidelity. 

More  sensitive  than  even  those  who  thought 
they  knew  her  intimately  would  have  guessed, 
Lee  was  beginning  to  suffer  intolerably.  She 
avoided  Jason  Smithers  now  as  painstakingly 
as,  only  a  few  weeks  back,  she  had  endeav- 
oured to  give  him  as  much  of  her  company 
as  he  desired.  Whenever  she  was  with  him 
she  was  conscious  of  a  suffocating  feeling  of 
constraint.  His  every  kindly  word  was  a  stab 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   231 

that  made  her  wince  inwardly.  It  was  with 
secret  relief  that  she  found  that  he  still  kept 
to  his  own  rooms  save  for  a  couple  of  hours 
in  the  very  early  middle  day.  The  old  pleas- 
ant, even  happy  intercourse  with  him  was  no 
longer  possible,  and,  wretchedly,  every  day 
she  told  herself  that  the  situation  was  getting 
beyond  her. 

The  house-party  had  broken  up  a  few  days 
after  Gish's  departure.  The  attitude  of  both 
Mrs.  Dorice  and  Terry  towards  her  was  frigid, 
and  added  to  her  discomfort,  while  her  anxiety 
concerning  Terry's  future  was  still  acutely 
real  despite  her  own  problem. 

A  little  over  a  week  later,  Mrs.  Dorice  an- 
nounced that  she  and  Terry  intended  ter- 
minating their  visit  the  following  day,  adding 
that  they  had  heard  from  Roland  Gish  that 
his  affairs  were  smoothly  settled. 

Lee  accepted  the  information  without  com- 
ment, and  with  an  inward  consciousness  of 
utter  impotence,  and  of  vague  discomfort 
under  Mrs.  Dorice's  unusually  intent  gaze. 
More  than  once,  of  late,  she  had  caught  her 
stepmother  looking  at  her  with  an  expression 
in  her  eyes  that  had  made  her  vaguely  uneasy, 
though  she  could  not  have  said  why. 


232   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

They  were  in  the  hall  after  lunch  when 
Mrs.  Dorice  made  the  announcement.  Lee 
was  silent.  Jason  Smithers,  leaning  rather 
more  heavily  on  his  cane  than  usual,  expressed 
his  regret  at  losing  them  in  his  customary 
courteous  way.  Frost  was  hovering  near  by 
ready  to  assist  him  to  his  room.  Terry  was 
reading  the  daily  newspaper.  She  flourished 
it  suddenly. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said,  "  if  we  're  ever  going 
to  hear  the  last  of  this  wretched  Carson  case! 
Here  's  some  more  about  it  again." 

Lee  grew  white.  It  seemed  to  her  minutes 
before  the  idle  young  voice  went  on: 

"  It  seems  they  Ve  found  another  clue,  or 
something." 

"  Clue!"  Mr.  Smithers's  tone  was  irritably 
belligerent.  "Only  a  clue!  Why  the  deuce 
don't  they  find  the  man!" 

Terry  shrugged.  "  It 's  nothing  much,  any- 
way. Only  that,  it  appears,  the  apartment 
where  Mrs.  Carson  was  murdered  has  been 
shut  up  since,  and  only  recently  re-let.  The 
new  tenants,  in  cleaning  up,  have  found  the 
half  of  a  man's  cuff-link  wedged  between  the 
floor  boards  close  to  the  hearth,  just  where 
Mrs.  Carson  had  been  found  lying.  There 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   233 

seems  to  be  a  theory  it  snapped  off  her  assail- 
ant's cuff  when  he  struck  her,  fell  on  the 
boards,  and  was  trodden  between  them  by 
the  people  who  found  her,  unnoticed.  The 
link  is  described  as  a  particularly  fine  piece 
of  jade  hand-carved  in  the  form  of  a  perfect 
elephant — evidently  Indian.  They — but  I 
don't  suppose  you  want  to  hear  any  more." 

She  tossed  the  paper  down.  Mr.  Smithers 
clicked  his  tongue  against  his  teeth  testily. 
Frost's  hand  was  on  his  arm.  Lee  saw  him 
glance  at  the  man  with  something  of  question 
before  they  moved  to  the  stairs.  Then  she 
turned  wearily  away. 

At  the  door  of  his  apartments  Mr.  Smithers 
halted  and  jerked  his  elbow  from  Frost's  hold. 

"  What  the  devil  's  the  matter  with  you?" 
he  began,  and  paused.  Frost's  wooden  coun- 
tenance was  twitching,  his  eyes  unnaturally 
bright.  He  answered,  stammering: 

"  I  valeted  Mr.  Gish  when  he  was  here,  sir. 
He  had  jade  cuff-links  among  his  things, 
carved  like  elephants.  And — my  God,  sir! 
— one  was  broken — the  other  half  was  gone ! " 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

TERRY,  wandering  to  the  garage  to  collect 
Toby  for  his  afternoon  scamper  with  the  other 
dogs,  encountered  Haines  upon  the  threshold. 
He  was  examining  one  of  the  closed  cars 
which  he  had  either  just  brought  in  or  was 
about  to  take  out,  but  he  was  not  in  livery, 
though  he  wore  his  goggles  pushed  up  over 
the  peak  of  his  soft  cap. 

He  looked  up  briefly,  touched  his  cap,  and 
returned  to  his  work  as  Toby  came  scamper- 
ing eagerly  down  the  narrow  stairs  from  the 
quarters  above.  Terry  had  hesitated  and 
drawn  back  on  catching  sight  of  Haines;  she 
recovered  herself  instantly,  and  bent  above 
Toby  with  a  slightly  heightened  colour  and  an 
air  of  nonchalance  which  she  did  not  really 
feel.  Indeed,  she  was  conscious  of  an  odd  and 
disturbing  flutter  of  her  pulses  as  she  met  the 
honest,  quiet  gaze  the  man  turned  upon  her. 
She  was,  to  her  own  bewilderment,  by  no  means 
at  her  ease.  Inwardly  she  raged  at  herself  for 
her  folly.  She  had  already  voiced  to  Lee  and 
to  her  mother  her  opinion  that  the  chauffeur 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   235 

should  have  been  summarily  dismissed  for 
his  impertinence;  but  this  evening  there  was 
that  in  the  way  he  looked  at  her  that  was 
oddly  disturbing.  It  made  her  feel  somehow 
defensive  and  guilty. 

She  was  selecting  one  of  Toby's  collars  from 
among  the  many  varied  ones  that,  with  their 
accompanying  leashes,  hung  above  his  basket, 
when  Haines  abruptly  spoke. 

He  had  passed  across  the  threshold,  leaving 
the  car,  now  purring  softly,  outside,  and  had 
drawn  one  of  the  doors  slightly  to  behind 
him,  obviously  to  prevent  Toby  dashing  exu- 
berantly past  him. 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice,  Terry  wheeled, 
then  stood  still.  His  face  was  quite  without 
expression,  but  his  eyes  shone. 

"Is  it  true,"  he  asked,  without  preamble, 
"  that  you  are  going  to  marry — Roland  Gish?" 

Terry  gasped,  strove  for  a  crushing  retort, 
met  those  shining,  steady  eyes,  and  answered, 
against  her  will: 

"Yes!" 

Haines  leaned  a  broad  shoulder  against  the 
lintel  of  the  unclosed,  heavy  door,  and  thrust 
his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets.  His  eyes  did 
not  leave  her  face. 


236   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

"  I  want  you,"  he  said  quite  calmly,  "  to 
alter  that  decision!" 

Again  Terry  gasped,  and  now  the  angry  red 
flamed  high  in  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  were  flash- 
ing. 

"This  is  intolerable!  .  .  .  Your  audacity 
is  only  equal  to  your  impertinence,  Haines! 
You — you — "  she  broke  off,  breathless,  im- 
potently  furious  before  his  unshaken  quiet. 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  it,  I  say?  What — " 

Haines 's  mouth  twitched  faintly  at  the 
corners.  He  held  the  passionate  indignation 
of  her  regard  levelly,  answered  as  levelly: 

"  That  I  love  you.  .  .  ."  He  took  his  hands 
out  of  his  pockets  and  came  a  step  nearer  to 
her. 

"  I  'd  rather  see  you  dead,"  he  went  on, 
and  now  his  voice  was  vibrant  with  repressed 
passion,  "than  sullied  by  that  man's  touch! 
...  I  'd  rather  die  for  you,  here  and  now, 
than  let  you  go  on  with  this  criminal  folly 
that  you  are  contemplating!  It  's  not  even  as 
if  you  loved  him!  You  don't!  You  're  not  the 
sort  who  loves  easily.  Oh  " — he  drew  a  long 
breath,  straightening  himself  suddenly  and 
standing  upright — "  I  know!" 

He  flung  his  hands  wide,  passionately.    His 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   237 

face  shone  whitely  against  the  growing  dusk 
without.  His  nostrils  were  ever  so  slightly 
dilated,  his  eyes  burning. 

"  You  're  a  baby.  You  don't  know  what 
love  means.  .  .  .  You  '11  never  know  if  you 
go  to  a  man  like  Roland  Gish  to  teach  you!" 

Terry  opened  her  lips  and  closed  them 
again.  Toby,  panting,  ears  cocked,  circled 
round  her,  occasionally  sniffing  at  the  collar 
in  her  hand.  Outside  the  thrumming  purr  of 
the  big  car  seemed  to  grow  louder.  Above 
it  Haines's  voice  rose  again,  vibrant  once 
more,  almost  savage  in  its  intensity. 

"  Only — it  's  not  going  to  be.  I  tell  you, 
it  's  not  going  to  be!" 

Terry  found  her  voice  at  last.  It  rose 
shrilly,  almost  hysterically.  At  the  rasp  in  it 
Toby  stopped  gambolling  and  slid  hurriedly 
to  the  shelter  of  his  basket. 

"  You — "  she  choked  back  her  fury, 
steadied  herself.  "  And  who  's  going  to 
prevent  it?" 

"  I  am."  Haines's  hand  flashed  out  suddenly 
and  closed  about  her  wrist.  He  jerked  her 
close  to  him,  holding  her  fast.  "  I  tell  you," 
he  added  thickly,  "  I  love  you!  .  .  ." 

In  the  shadows  Terry's  eyes  were  momen- 


238  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

tarily  like  live  coals.  She  brought  the  heavy 
brass  and  leather  dog-collar  down  with  all 
her  force  across  his  forearm,  so  that  with  an 
involuntary  cry  of  pain  he  unloosed  his  fingers 
and  let  his  arm  fall. 

"  Love!"  the  girl  raged.  "  The  love  of  a 
paid  servant — a — a — " 

She  got  no  further.  Haines  wrenched  the 
collar  from  her  hand,  drew  her  close  again. 
His  breath  came  quick  and  fast,  the  savage 
passion  of  his  grip  numbed  her.  As  she 
strained  against  him,  he  brought  his  lips 
roughly,  bruisingly,  against  hers. 

"  The  love  of  a  man — "  he  cried  hoarsely. 
"  Oh,  my  girl — my  girl !  The  love  of  a 
mate!  .  .  ." 

He  let  her  go  as  quickly  as  he  had  caught 
her.  Breathing  heavily,  he  stood  against  the 
door  again,  his  hands  fumbling  at  the  thick 
woollen  scarf  about  his  throat.  He  dragged 
it  suddenly  down  as  Terry  made  to  pass  him, 
and  an  instant  later  its  folds  were  about  her 
face.  .  .  . 

In  the  shadows,  shivering,  Toby  yelped  a 
piteous  protest  as  Haines  swung  the  girl, 
struggling,  off  her  feet.  In  the  far  distance  a 
stableboy  whistled  cheerily.  A  persistent  yap- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   239 

ping  of  an  impatient  Pom  came  from  some- 
where in  the  low-lying  house. 

Presently  the  big  car  outside  the  garage 
ceased  to  purr  and  began  to  throb.  Then, 
silently,  smoothly,  headlights  challenging, 
dazzling,  like  the  eyes  of  some  monster  of  the 
night,  it  glided  down  the  drive  and  out  into 
the  highroad. 

Against  the  cushions  within,  very  pale,  very 
still,  and  unexpectedly  small  and  childish, 
Terry  lay. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

IT  was  close  upon  the  dinner  hour  when  Toby 
called  attention  to  his  mistress's  continued 
absence.  In  her  room  the  Pom  had  long  since 
barked  himself  hoarse  and  had  curled  himself 
up  in  a  chair,  reproachfully  resigned  to  an 
unusual  neglect. 

Toby,  collarless  and  whining,  had  circled 
the  grounds  and  house  for  nearly  two  hours 
before  he  finally  made  his  way  within.  Mrs. 
Dorice  and  Lee  came  together  down  the  stairs, 
and  the  dog  precipitated  himself  upon  them 
eagerly. 

Lee  stooped  to  pat  him,  then  glanced  about 
her  quickly. 

"  Why — where  is  Terry?"  she  asked. 
"  Toby  has  n't  got  h'is  collar  on,  and  she 
generally  takes  him  straight  to  the  garage." 

There  was  a  faint,  puzzled  apprehension  in 
her  tone.  Mrs.  Dorice  shrugged. 

"  She  's  in  her  room,  I  suppose.  Probably 
Toby  slipped  out  after  her." 

Lee,  still  caressing  the  whining  dog,  ac- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   241 

cepted  the  explanation,  but  the  uneasiness 
deepened  in  her  eyes.  She  was  quick  as  Terry 
herself  to  understand  a  dog's  moods,  and 
Toby's  manner  was  unusual.  It  was  not  until 
dinner  was  announced,  and  Terry  did  not 
appear,  that  Teresa,  too,  showed  surprise. 

"  Where  on  earth  can  she  be?"  she  ex- 
claimed, adding:  "  Now  I  come  to  think  of 
it,  she  went  to  fetch  Toby,  but  I  did  n't  see 
her  come  back  for  the  other  dogs,  and  that 
wretched  Chicot  was  yelping  in  her  room  for 
hours,  it  seemed  to  me." 

Lee  did  not  answer,  but  ran  lightly  up  the 
stairs  and  on  to  Terry's  room.  Chicot  yelped 
with  delight  as  she  entered,  and  Toby,  still 
whimpering  at  her  heels,  rushed  in  eagerly. 
But,  save  for  the  animals,  the  room  was 
empty. 

"  Where  is  she?"  Lee  heard  Teresa's  voice, 
querulous  and  bewildered,  at  her  elbow. 

She  shook  her  head,  a  grave  disquiet  in 
her  eyes. 

"  I  don't  know.  .  .  .  She  can't  have  come 
in  since  she  went  to  fetch  Toby.  I  '11  send 
down  to  the  garage.  Haines  has  charge  of 
Toby,  and  since  the  dog  is  loose  Terry  must 
have  been  there." 


242   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Something  in  her  voice  made  Teresa  look 
at  her  quickly,  and  frown.  Lee's  face  was  a 
little  pale;  it  wore  a  startled  look  which  the 
older  woman  found  perplexing.  But  she  made 
no  comment  until  an  answer  came  to  Lee's 
message.  One  of  the  chauffeurs  brought  it, 
standing  awkwardly  before  the  two  women. 
He  had  himself  seen  Miss  Terry  on  her  way 
to  fetch  the  dog,  but  he  had  not  seen  her 
since.  He  had  been  surprised  to  find  the  dog 
loose  about  the  yards  later,  especially  as  he 
was  collarless. 

There  he  paused  and  hesitated. 

Lee  looked  at  him  searchingly. 

"  But  Haines  had  charge  of  the  dog!"  she 
said.  "  Surely  he  would  know  if  Miss  Terry 
took  him  out  with  her  as  usual,  and  if  so  in 
which  direction  she  went?" 

The  man  shifted  from  one  foot  to  the  other 
a  trifle  uneasily. 

"  Haines  is  not  in  the  garage,  ma'am.  We 
can't  find  him  anywhere,  and  one  of  the  men 
says  he  saw  him  driving  Miss  Terry's  car  out 
of  the  drive  gates  a  couple  of  hours  or  more 
ago.  He  has  n't  come  back  yet — leastways 
Miss  Terry's  car  is  n't  garaged." 

Lee's  breath  caught  suddenly.     A  bewil- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   243 

dering  suspicion  was  dawning  at  the  back 
of  her  mind.  She  flung  a  swift  glance  of  dis- 
may at  Teresa,  then  said  quietly: 

"  Thank  you.  Probably  Miss  Terry  decided 
to  go  for  a  spin  at  the  last  moment  instead 
of  taking  the  dogs  out.  .  .  .  There  may  have 
been  some  trouble  with  the  car.  ...  In  any 
case,  let  me  know  as  soon  as  Haines  returns. 
Thank  you — that  is  all." 

The  man  touched  his  cap  and  departed. 
Lee,  outwardly  quite  composed,  passed  on  into 
the  dining-room. 

Teresa,  exclamatory  and  indignant,  fol- 
lowed her. 

"Terry  really  is  impossible  sometimes!" 
she  declared;  then,  catching  sight  of  Lee's 
face,  stopped.  The  rest  of  the  meal  was  par- 
taken of  in  silence,  but  when  the  servants 
were  gone,  she  looked  suddenly,  shrewdly, 
across  into  Lee's  eyes. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  more  about  this, 
Lee?"  she  demanded,  and  knew,  by  the  girl's 
quick  start,  her  heightened  colour,  and  startled 
glance,  that  the  shot  had  struck  home.  Never- 
theless, Lee's  voice  was  quite  steady,  a  little 
contemptuous  when  she  answered. 

"  Only  as  much  as  you  do!"  She  returned 


244  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

the  other's  keen  regard  composedly.  "  Why 
should  you  think  otherwise?" 

"  I  don't  know."  Teresa's  voice  was  edged, 
her  pansy  eyes  were  narrowed.  "  Only — it 
seems  queer,  rather — Terry  going  off  joy- 
riding  like  this,  especially  with  Haines,  whom 
she  can't  tolerate.  .  .  .  Besides,  you  Ve  got 
a  sort  of  funny  expression,  you  know." 

Lee  jerked  back  her  chair  and  rose.  Her 
eyes  were  scornful. 

"You  are  absurd!  Terry  '11  probably  be 
back  in  a  few  minutes  now,  half-starving,  and 
quite  oblivious  of  time!" 

But  her  voice  lacked  conviction.  Her  eyes 
remained  troubled,  and  Raines's  words  of  a 
night  or  two  ago  were  still  ringing  in  her  ears. 

The  evening  passed  restlessly  for  both 
women.  By  bedtime  Teresa  was  on  the  verge 
of  hysterics. 

"  Terry  must  be  quite  mad!"  she  wailed. 
"  These  pranks  were  bad  enough  before,  but 
now.  .  .  or  maybe  there  's  been  an  accident. 
Lee,  for  Heaven's  sake,  can't  you  do  some- 
thing— send  some  of  the  men  to  look  for 
them?  I  believe  you  're  remaining  inactive 
on  purpose — because  you  don't  want  Terry 
to  marry  Roland  Gish.  .  .  ." 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   245 

The  shrill  voice  ceased  before  the  sudden 
flame  of  Lee's  eyes.  The  girl  said  quietly 
after  a  moment: 

"  If  inaction  on  my  part  would  bring  about 
a  break  in  that  direction,  I  would  not  lift  a 
finger!" 

She  turned  away  as  she  spoke,  but  Teresa 
caught  her  wrist. 

"  I  believe  you  do  know  something!"  she 
cried.  "  My  Heaven,  Lee!  If  so — if  to-night's 
doings  are  in  any  way  your  work — you  '11  be 
sorry  for  it.  And  I  can  make  you  sorry, 
don't  forget  that.  I  'm  not  blind,  you  know  " 
— there  was  a  queer,  ugly  sneer  in  the  words 
— "  and  I  know  a  good  bit  more  than  perhaps 
you  think  I  do ! " 

Lee's  expression  remained  unaltered.  She 
freed  her  wrist  and  passed  on  into  her  own 
room.  But,  once  inside,  she  leaned  for  a 
moment  limply  against  the  panels  of  the  door, 
her  face  very  white,  her  eyes  dark  with  appre- 
hension, Teresa's  venom-pointed  words  sing- 
ing maddeningly  in  her  ears. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

LEE  scarcely  slept  that  night.  With  her 
letters  her  maid  brought  her  a  message. 
Terry's  car  had  been  found  in  the  village 
garage,  where,  according  to  the  proprietor, 
Haines  had  left  it  the  previous  evening.  Noth- 
ing at  all  had  been  seen  of  Terry.  Haines 
had  taken  a  drink  in  the  village  inn,  and  had 
gone. 

Lee  rose  listlessly,  dressed,  and  made  her 
way  to  Teresa's  room.  A  maid  informed  her 
that  Mrs.  Dorice  could  see  no  one,  as  she 
was  suffering  from  acute  nervous  headache, 
and  quite  prostrate.  Lee  left  the  message, 
partook  of  a  scant  and  solitary  breakfast,  and 
drifted  afterwards  to  her  husband's  rooms. 

Here  Frost  informed  her  that  Mr.  Smithers 
had  not  enjoyed  a  good  night.  He  was  sleep- 
ing still,  and  did  not  wish  to  be  disturbed  at 
all  during  the  day. 

Lee,  with  Toby  at  her  heels,  went  out.  It 
was  a  clear  morning  and  mild,  and  she  stayed 
until  luncheon-time.  The  conviction  was 
growing  upon  her  that  Haines  was  responsible 
for  Terry's  disappearance,  and,  while  she  was 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  247 

genuinely  distressed  and  anxious,  she  felt  cu- 
riously disinclined  to  do  anything  further,  to 
take  other  steps  than  she  had  already  done. 

In  the  early  afternoon  a  thumbed  envelope, 
upon  which  her  name  was  scrawled  illiter- 
ately, was  brought  to  her.  The  sight  of  it 
brought  her  heart  leaping  to  her  throat  and 
the  startled  blood  to  her  cheeks. 

She  opened  it  reluctantly.  Teresa  Dorice 
was  with  her,  and  Lee  knew  that  the  pansy 
eyes,  a  little  narrowed,  very  hard,  were  upon 
her. 

The  note  was  the  same  as  a  former  one. 
Just  the  one  word  "  Come,"  but  underlined 
this  time.  Lee  tore  the  paper  into  shreds 
with  fingers  that  shook,  and  rose. 

"  I  have  to  go  out,"  she  said.  "  I  expect 
I  shall  be  back  by  tea-time,  but  don't  wait  for 
me." 

Mrs.  Dorice  merely  nodded.  But  as  Lee 
reached  the  door  she  said,  casually: 

"  To  the  village?" 

"  Yes."  Lee's  tone  was  absent,  yet  rtervous. 
Already  her  mind  was  with  Denham  Carson, 
her  pulses  stirring  at  the  knowledge  of  their 
coming  meeting.  Ten  minutes  later  she  went 
swiftly  down  the  drive.  Teresa,  from  the 


248  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

morning-room  window,  watched  her  thought- 
fully. Then  she  rose,  went  leisurely  to  her 
room,  and  made  an  unusually  quiet  walking 

toilette. 

.••••<«« 

With  the  first  touch  of  Denham  Carson's 
hands  about  hers,  nervous,  tense,  painfully 
hard,  with  the  first  glance  into  vivid  blue  eyes 
that  were  literally  blazing  with  excitement, 
Lee  knew  that  he  was  labouring  under  an 
emotion  that  had  shaken  him  to  the  depths. 

"Lee!" 

The  whisper  of  her  name  was  hoarse.  He 
dragged  her  across  the  threshold,  and  banged 
to  the  door.  Still  holding  her,  he  went  on, 
jerkily,  breathlessly: 

"  Lee!  I  had  to  see  you!  Oh,  girl!  It  may 
be — there  's  just  a  bare  chance — of  finding 
the  truth  of — of  Chrissie's  murder!  .  .  ." 

He  stopped  abruptly  as  Lee  drew  a  quick 
breath,  recoiling.  Some  of  the  light  faded  out 
of  his  face;  he  released  her  hands  and  stood 
back.  For  a  moment  he  was  silent,  regard- 
ing her  intently.  Then  he  went  on  more 
quietly. 

"  I  Ve — never  spoken  of  that  to  you.  Not 
directly.  Somehow,  I  Ve  never  dared  to. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   249 

I  Ve  dreaded  breaking  the  magic  spell.  .  .  . 
Only,  after  the  way  you  helped  me  that  night 
it  seemed  to  me  that — that  you  might  have 
found  it  in  your  heart  to — to  give  me  the 
benefit  of  the  doubt.  I  'm — innocent,  Lee!" 

"  Don't!"  Lee  made  a  half-appealing,  per- 
emptory gesture.  Her  face  was  white.  "  I 
— have  hardly  thought  about  that,  save  in 
connection  with  the  danger  of  your  position. 
I — have  only  remembered  that  you  are  you — " 

Her  voice  caught.  With  a  quick  movement 
he  gripped  her  shoulders  and  swung  her  round 
to  face  him. 

"  Oh,  girl!  But  you  believe  me?" 

She  lifted  wide,  troubled  eyes  to  his, 
searched  them  deeply,  earnestly,  then  gave  a 
tired,  half-sobbing  sigh. 

"  I  think — "  she  said,  with  a  twisted,  rather 
pitiful  smile — "  that  I  should  believe  any- 
thing that  you  told  me." 

Carson  drew  a  long  breath  and  let  her  go. 
For  a  while  he  did  not  speak.  Then  he  went 
on,  the  note  of  excitement  creeping  into  his 
voice  again. 

"  You  know  the  wretched  story.  My  mar- 
riage was  a  failure  from  the  beginning.  I 
was  a  quixotic  young  fool,  or  I  would  never 


250  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

have  allowed  myself  to  be  led  into  it.  There 
was  no  question  of  love!  Chrissie  was  not, 
never  could  have  been,  the  sort  of  woman  I 
could  love.  .  .  .  Afterwards,  in  the  ghastly 
days  that  stretched  to  years  I  made  a  dream- 
woman  to  love.  Lee  .  .  .  the  dream- woman 
materialised  that  night  on  Ruff's  Island — 
with  the  first  touch  of  your  hand,  the  first 
glance  into  your  eyes." 

Lee  stirred,  but  she  did  not  speak.  From 
the  bracken  without  there  came  a  faint  sound. 
Each  glanced  at  the  narrow  window,  but  the 
sound  was  not  repeated,  and  Carson  went  on. 

"  That  night  on  Ruff's  Island!  I  shall  never 
forget  it,  Lee!  All  the  starved  heart  of  me 
became  awake  and  ravenous  for  the  love  it 
had  been  denied,  then!  I  sat  that  night,  while 
you  slept  and  the  grey  dawn  came,  thinking — 
thinking — thinking.  I  'd  laughed  at  men  who 
loved  at  sight  before.  I  knew  that  night  that 
there  was  nothing  to  laugh  at.  There  was 
fire  in  my  blood — every  pulse  ached  for  you 
— I  don't  know  how  I  let  you  go ! " 

Again  the  bracken  whispered  and  stirred 
beneath  a  passing  wind — the  branch  of  a  tree 
cracked,  but  neither  heeded  now. 

The  sound  came  again,  fainter,  more  dis- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   251 

tant.  Back  towards  the  upper  road,  through 
the  bracken  and  the  tree-trunks  a  figure 
moved,  shadowy,  indistinct,  and  finally  dis- 
appeared. 

In  the  silence  of  the  hut  Carson's  voice  rose 
again.  He  smiled. 

"  I  'm  letting  memories  carry  me  away  .  .  . 
forgetting  the  future!  Lee,  you  Ve  seen  the 
papers — you  Ve  seen  the  discovery  of  a  man's 
broken  cuff-link?  Its  description?"  Again,  as 
she  nodded,  his  nervous  brown  hand  gripped 
her  arm.  "  Lee — those  cuff-links  were  Roland 
Gish's!"  He  jerked  to  a  stop,  hesitated,  and 
went  on.  "  Don't  ask  me  how  I  know.  I  do 
know!  And  Roland  Gish  was  the  man  who 
was  instrumental  in  taking  my — in  taking 
Chrissie  from  my  home,  in  bringing  scandal 
on  our  name.  Roland  Gish  fascinated  her  as 
I  could  never  have  done.  He  made  her  love 
him  as  he  had  made  a  dozen  other  women  love 
him — and  cast  her  aside  as  he  had  cast  the 
others.  Or — was  about  to.  I  warned  her  of 
that,  that  night  when  I  was  there — I  tried  to 
show  her  the  true  character  of  the  man.  I  did 
not  know  how  far  things  had  gone  between 
them — I  did  not  ask.  But  she  would  not  listen 
— she  raged  at  me  like  a  tigress.  I  guessed 


252   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

then,  if  I  had  never  guessed  before,  how 
utterly  and  completely  the  man  held  sway 
over  her — that  it  was  too  late  to  hope  for  even 
an  outward  semblance  of  reconciliation  be- 
tween us.  I  left  her  then." 

He  paused  and  took  a  few  strides  the  length 
of  the  narrow  room,  speaking  again  as  he  did  so. 

"  It  's  funny — but  I  never  thought  of  Gish 
In  connection  with  her  death.  Like  the  world 
I  only  connected  him  with  her  inasmuch  as  he 
was  getting  her  talked  about — and  as  only 
one  of  the  reasons  for  our  quarrel.  Until  last 
night,  when  I  learned  that  the  cuff-link  was 
his—" 

"  Last  night? — "  Lee  looked  startled,  but 
he  brushed  the  interruption  aside. 

"  Gish  had  assumed  no  greater  importance 
in  the  ghastly  affair.  But  now — now" — he 
halted  before  her  again,  and  his  breath  came 
quickly — "  I  Ve  begun  to  wonder.  Gish  must 
have  been  there  in  the  apartment  with  her  at 
some  time — he  might  even  have  been  there, 
in  hiding,  during  our  interview  and  quarrel. 
If  so — if  so,  Lee,  why  should  they  not  have 
quarrelled  too?  God  knows,  it  's  only  a  sur- 
mise— but  a  drowning  man  clutches  at  straws, 
however  frail! — " 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  253 

Lee's  eyes  widened  in  horror,  and  something 
of  his  own  excitement.  "  You — mean?  .  .  ." 

"  That  the  blow  that  killed  Chrissie  was 
struck  brutally,  without  deliberation,  in  the 
heat  of  ungoverned  passion.  I  did  not  strike 
that  blow.  There  was  only  one  other  with 
whom  she  could  have  quarrelled  violently. 
That  other  was  Gish.  I  know  more  of  him 
now — through  hearsay — than  I  did  five  years 
ago.  His  methods — with  women,  and  other- 
wise— have  become  notorious.  They  have  al- 
ways been  brutal." 

Lee  drew  a  brief  mental  picture  of  her 
erstwhile  guest — suave,  debonair,  altogether 
charming.  She  remembered  her  impression  of 
the  lines  about  his  mouth,  the  look  in  his  eyes, 
and  shuddered.  She  waited  silently  for  Car- 
son to  go  on. 

"  Even  now,"  he  proceeded,  "  no  suspicion 
of  him  would  have  crossed  my  mind,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  Harry — " 

He  stopped  short.  Lee  looked  at  him  again 
searchingly,  questioningly.  He  met  her  glance 
and  smiled  faintly. 

"  It  does  n't  matter  now — but  he  's  one  of 
the  two  truest  friends  a  man  ever  had!  He, 
and  one  other,  gave  up  five  years  of  their 


254  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

lives  in  working  for  my  liberty.  .  .  ."  Again 
his  lips  twitched.  "  But  for  those  two  I  should 
never  have  gained  it,  or  kept  it  a  day !  I  owe 
everything  to  them." 

Lee  moistened  lips  that  had  become  a  little 
dry. 

"But— Gish!"  she  whispered.  "  How— 
what  grounds — "  She  broke  off. 

Carson  shrugged  and  then  squared  his 
shoulders.  His  eyes  looked  tired  suddenly,  a 
little  bleak. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  Ve  got  to  leave  the  rest 
in  Harry's  hands.  The  waiting — suspense — 
will  be  damnable,  of  course."  His  eyes  met 
hers,  deepened  and  glowed.  "  Were  it  not  for 
you"  he  whispered,  "  I  'd  give  myself  up 
again — risk  all  for  the  chance  of  voicing  my 
own  suspicions.  But — for  your  sake — for  the 
sake  of  our  joint  happiness — I  dare  n't!" 

He  swung  away  from  her  again,  and  stood 
staring  out  of  the  window.  She  heard  him 
speaking  presently,  just  above  his  breath. 

"I  Ve  been  a  fool!  Worse  than  a  fool! 
I  'd  no  right  to  do  what  I  have  done — no  right 
to  involve  you  in  this — no  right  to  take  from 
you  what  I  have.  I  Ve  been  a  selfish,  unthink- 
ing brute  .  .  .  but,  my  God!  Lee!  If  this 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  255 

means  freedom  —  permanent,  unshadowed 
freedom — think!  Think  what  it  means  to 
you — to  me!  Think  of  the  happiness  that 
lies  ahead  of  us!" 

He  faced  her  again  and  came  towards  her, 
but  with  a  cry  Lee  drew  back.  There  was 
bewilderment  in  her  eyes,  shrinking — some- 
thing of  fear. 

"Don't!"  she  said  just  above  her  breath. 
"  Oh — you  don't  know  what  you  are  saying! 
You  have  forgotten — " 

"  I  have  forgotten  nothing!"  His  hands 
were  on  her  shoulders  again,  he  drew  her 
close,  and  his  touch  seemed  to  burn.  "  Oh, 
sweetheart — it  's  just  come  to  us  so  strangely 
— that  made  of  me  the  mad,  reckless  fool  that 
I  have  become,  and  the  happiest  man  on  God's 
earth!  I  can't  give  it  up — I  can't — I  can't!" 

He  held  her  close,  his  lips  very  near  to  hers, 
but  with  a  smothered  cry  she  pressed  her 
hands  against  him,  thrusting  him  from  her. 

"You  don't  know  what  you  are  saying!" 
Her  face  looked  suddenly  white  and  pinched, 
her  lips  were  trembling.  "  You  have  forgot- 
ten! .  .  .  Whatever  the  future  holds  for  you 
— it  can  make  no  difference!  Our  ways  have 
got  to  part — and  soon." 


256  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

His  hands  went  out  to  her  again,  but  she 
evaded  them,  trembling,  but  holding  him  away 
with  a  piteous  courage. 

"  Denham!  It  's  got  to  be.  I  Ve  known  it 
from  the  beginning.  I  Ve  hated  myself  for 
coming  here — for  taking  your  love — for  giv- 
ing you  mine ! "  The  red  flamed  in  her  cheeks 
and  died  again.  "  I  could  not  help  that — 
loving  you,  and  being  loved,  I  mean.  But  I 
ought  to  have  been  stronger — I  ought  never 
to  have  yielded;  I  ought  to  have  put  you 
utterly  out  of  my  life.  Oh,  I  Ve  been  wrong 
— disloyal — a  traitor — " 

"Lee!"  Distressed,  infinitely  gentle,  his 
voice  quieted  the  torrent  of  her  words.  She 
met  his  eyes  for  a  flickering  moment — eyes 
remorseful,  troubled — and  looked  away  in  a 
blinding  rush  of  tears.  "Lee!  It  has  been 
my  fault — all  of  it.  Oh,  child — I  Ve  scarcely 
thought  what  it  must  have  meant  for  you. 
I  Ve  remembered  only  that  I  love  you — that 
you  love  me — that  you  are  mine — " 

"  No — no ! "  There  was  desperation  in  Lee's 
voice.  With  an  immense  effort  she  steadied  it, 
facing  him  now,  her  hands  against  her  breast, 
very  still.  "  We  Ve  got  to  say  *  good-bye  ' — 
to-night.  It — it  is — has  been  wrong  from  the 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  257 

beginning.  It  can't  go  on — we  're  neither  of 
us  strong  enough — " 

She  choked  and  stopped.  Carson  took  a  step 
nearer. 

"  Is  anything  in  life,"  he  asked,  "  stronger 
than — love?" 

For  a  long  moment  she  met  his  eyes,  pite- 
ously,  yet  steadfastly.  Then  she  flung  her 
hands  wide. 

"Only — fidelity!"  she  said.  And  then: 
"  Oh,  don't  you  understand?  That  old  man 
— that  poor  old  man!  He  loves  me — in  his 
way.  He  believes  in  me.  He  gave  his  honour 
into  my  hands — he  trusts  me!  Trusts  me — 
oh,  God!" 

Her  voice  broke  on  a  storm  of  tears.  Car- 
son caught  her  hands  and  held  them  against 
his  breast.  The  light  in  his  eyes  was  strange, 
very  wonderful. 

"  Lee!" 

Through  the  rain  of  her  tears  Lee  looked 
up  at  him. 

"  You  '11  let  me  go?"  she  said.  "  Oh— my 
dear!  It 's  not  that  I  do  not  care — more  than 
ever  words  of  mine  can  say!  But  you  '11 
forget — you  must  forget.  .  .  ." 

She  stopped.    The  man  drew  her  nearer. 


258  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

The  look  in  his  eyes  calmed  her  suddenly. 

"  I  '11  let  you  go,"  he  answered.  "  But  I  '11 
not  forget.  I  never  could  forget,  because — 
oh,  Lee!  I  love  you  more  to-night  than  ever 
before!  .  .  ." 

He  released  her  and  stepped  back.  Blindly 
she  turned  to  the  door.  He  did  not  move,  and 
with  her  hand  on  the  latch  she  paused  and 
looked  back. 

"  Good-bye!"  she  whispered. 

Carson  smiled.  It  was  an  oddly  radiant, 
very  wonderful  smile.  But  he  answered 
gravely: 

"God  bless  you!" 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

TERRY  stirred  among  unaccustomed  coverings, 
coughed,  and  sat  upright.  There  was  a  sing- 
ing in  her  ears  and  her  head  ached  heavily. 
She  felt  a  little  sick,  and  utterly  bewildered. 
Then,  as  her  vision  cleared,  she  gasped.  She 
was  in  a  rather  stuffy  room,  in  which  the 
odours  of  coffee,  wood,  and  oil  mingled  a  little 
suffocatingly.  Matting  was  upon  the  floor, 
beaded  curtains  covered  the  absurd  windows. 
Before  a  fire  of  damp  logs  Haines  squatted, 
trying  to  make  toast. 

For  a  moment  Terry  stared  at  him  dazedly. 
Then,  as  recollection  dawned  upon  her,  she 
flung  aside  her  coverings  and  sprang  to  her 
feet.  Giddy,  she  caught  at  a  chair,  and  Haines, 
dropping  the  toasting-fork,  leaped  up. 

Through  the  hazy  mingling  of  smoke  and 
oil  fumes  they  stared  at  each  other.  Terry 
tried  to  speak  and  coughed  instead.  Her  face 
looked  pinched  and  small  in  the  lamplight, 
and  Haines  turned  abruptly  to  where  a  coffee- 


260  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

pot  was  steaming,  caught  up  a  cup,  and,  filling 
it,  handed  it  to  her. 

"  Drink  it  as  it  is,"  he  ordered.  "  It  '11  pull 
you  round." 

Almost  mechanically  she  obeyed,  giving  the 
cup  back  into  his  hands  with  a  little  grimace. 
Then  she  straightened  herself. 

"  Where  am  I?"  she  demanded,  and  Haines, 
gathering  up  the  toast  and  fork,  and  settling 
himself  on  his  heels  again,  answered: 

"  Island — down  Thames.  One  of  those 
fashionable  places  in  the  summer-time — bun- 
galows and  all  that.  Just  at  present  quite 
deserted.  Towing  path  on  one  bank  closed 
temporarily  to  the  public  owing  to  damage  by 
floods.  Other  side  private  woods  of  an  estate 
— all  tangled  vegetation  lately  uncultivated. 
Might  easily  be  in  mid-Pacific.  Have  some 
more  coffee?" 

Terry  steadied  herself  and  let  go  of  the 
chair.  Her  face  was  still  white,  but  her  be- 
wildered eyes  had  begun  to  burn. 

"  You  brought  me  here?"  She  spoke  low, 
but  her  voice  rasped  on  the  silence. 

Haines  carefully  turned  the  toast. 

"  Yep."    His  tone  was  nonchalant. 

Terry's  teeth  clicked. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   261 

"  How?" 

Haines  grinned,  but  there  was  no  accom- 
panying amusement  in  his  eyes.  Under  their 
lowered  lids  they  were  shadowed,  as  if  with 
faint  shame,  yet  unwavering. 

"  Brute  force,  in  the  beginning — aided  by  a 
little  chloroform  and  a  woollen  scarf.  After- 
wards it  was  n't  difficult  to  administer  the 
right  sort  of  dope,  enough  to  keep  you  quiet 
on  the  run  down  here.  And,  by  the  way,  we  're 
not  likely  to  be  traced  or  followed.  I  parked 
a  car  ready  for  emergencies  in  the  coppice 
back  of  the  inn  at  Brookbridge.  Trespassing, 
of  course,  but  could  n't  help  that.  Pretty 
dark  when  we  got  that  far,  and  most  of  the 
village  congregated  at  the  bar.  ...  It  only 
took  a  minute  to  lift  you  from  one  car  to  the 
other.  Ran  yours  down  to  the  village  garage 
— ran  back  to  the  inn  and  had  a  drink — then 
came  along  on  here.  Very  simple,  really, 
though,  of  course,  a  bit  melodramatic — rather 
like  a  movie  stunt! — "  He  did  not  look  round. 

Terry  was  quivering  with  rising  anger,  but 
she  had  heard  him  in  grim  silence.  She  asked 
now: 

"Why?" 

Haines  set  the  slice  of  toast  on  a  plate, 


262   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

buttered  it,  and  brought  it  to  her.  He  filled 
her  cup  with  coffee,  added  milk  and  sugar, 
and  pulled  up  a  chair. 

"  You  'd  better  eat  before  I  tell  you.  It  's 
midnight,  and  you  missed  tea  and  dinner. 
You  '11  be  feeling  a  bit  shaky." 

Terry  sat  down.  Her  limbs  were  trembling 
and  she  still  felt  sick.  She  swallowed  the  toast 
at  first  with  difficulty,  but  ate  the  second  piece 
he  gave  her.  With  renewed  strength  her 
anger  flamed  higher. 

"  Why?"  she  said  for  the  second  time. 

Haines  looked  at  her,  and  away  again.  He 
opened  a  packet  of  cigarettes,  selected  one, 
and  leaned  forward  to  put  the  packet  on  her 
knee.  Then  he  tilted  his  head  back  into 
shadow  and  spoke. 

"  There  's  a  parson  about  half  a  mile  from 
here.  I  Ve  got  a  marriage  licence  in  my 
pocket.  I  love  you.  I  Ve  wanted  you.  It 
seemed  to  me  there  was  only  one  way  of 
making  sure  of  saving  you  from  that — from 
Gish!  As  I  say,  I  love  you — a  lot  more  than 
you  can  ever  understand.  It  seemed  to  me — 
even  with  the  odds  against  me — I  could  make 
you — care  a  little  too." 

Terry  gave  vent  to  an  exclamation  so  pas- 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  263 

sionately  scornful  that  he  winced,  but  he  went 
on  imperturbably: 

"  You  see,  you  're  not  quite  the  ordinary, 
conventional  girl.  There  's  a  heap  more  in 
you.  And,  as  a  consequence,  you  need  han- 
dling differently.  And  " — he  drew  a  slow 
breath — "  I  'm  thinking  you  could  love  mighty 
wonderfully." 

He  paused.  Terry  sat  speechless.  Haines 
relighted  his  cigarette  and  went  on. 

"  Even  if  you  loved  Gish,  I  should  have 
acted  just  the  same.  But  you  don't — thank 
God!"  He  stirred  suddenly  and  sat  upright. 
"  My  first  intention — when  I  began  to  plan 
this — was  to  bring  you  here,  and  to  keep  you 
here  until  you  consented  to  marry  me.  It  's 
not  such  a  far-fetched  notion  as  it  sounds,  you 
know.  I  may  be  just  a  chauffeur,  Terry — a 
servant — in  your  eyes.  But  I  'm  not  exactly 
poor — I  could  keep  a  wife  in  a  fair  amount  of 
comfort,  even  luxury  " — he  grinned  for  a  mo- 
ment in  the  shadows — "  and  I  'm  as  decently 
bred  as  most  of  the  men  you  accept  as  equals. 
Even  if  I  were  not,  I  'm  a  man — and  I  Ve  got 
a  clean  record — and  my  love  for  you  is  the 
biggest  thing  that  has  ever  happened  in  my 
life." 


264  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

His  voice  shook  for  an  instant.  He  got 
rather  abruptly  to  his  feet  and  stood  above 
her.  In  spite  of  herself,  something  in  his  tone 
impressed  Terry,  held  her  silent. 

"  It  seemed  to  me  that,  even  if  you  hated 
me  at  first  for  what  I  Ve  done,  once  you  be- 
longed to  me — once  I  had  a  right  to  guard  you 
and  look  after  you — I  could  teach  you  differ- 
ently. I  hoped  it  'd  be  that  way,  anyhow." 

The  girl  stirred,  opened  her  lips,  and  closed 
them  again. 

"  You  see,  I  figured  it  out  that  you  'd  have 
no  choice  but  to  marry  me.  Folks  '11  all  know 
you  came  away  with  me.  At  least,  they  will 
by  to-morrow  evening.  I  sent  a  wire  to  Brook- 
bridge  from  a  village  we  passed  on  our  way 
here,  saying  so.  And  I  meant  to  keep  you 
here  until  you  realised  you  'd  have  to  con- 
sent." 

"  You  utter  cadi"  Terry's  voice  rose  shrilly 
on  a  hysterical  note;  she  sprang  to  her  feet 
and  stood  facing  him.  "  Oh,  you  cad!  I  'd 
never  consent.  Compromised  or  not,  I  'd 
never  consent.  I  'd  rather  go  through  life 
with  my  reputation  in  tatters  than  consent! 
What  then?" 

Haines's  face  whitened,  his  nostrils  were 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   265 

dilated.  He  was  still  quiet,  but  there  was  a 
rising  note  of  passion,  fiercely  controlled,  in 
his  voice — a  passion  overwhelming,  inexor- 
able, before  which  Terry  involuntarily  re- 
coiled. He  spoke  without  trying  to  soften  the 
brutality  of  his  words. 

"  I  'd  keep  you  here,  say,  two  weeks  to  try 
and  persuade  you.  After  that — well,  I  Ve 
resorted  to  primitive  methods  in  metaphori- 
cally knocking  you  on  the  head  and  carrying 
you  off.  I  don't  suppose,  if  you  tried  me  far 
enough,  and  since  I  mean  to  have  you,  I  'd 
hesitate  to  resort  to  a  primitive  form  of  mar- 
riage ceremony!" 

Terry  stood  suddenly  very  still.  Her  face 
burned  red,  then  went  white.  Of  a  sudden, 
beneath  that  which  she  saw  in  his  eyes  her 
high  courage  deserted  her.  With  a  sound  half 
a  sob,  half  a  moan,  she  dropped  into  her  chair 
and  sat  huddled. 

Haines  waited  for  a  minute,  then  went  on: 

"  But  something  has  happened  which  has 
made  me  decide  to  drive  a  bargain  with  you. 
Listen.  You  Ve  heard  of  the  Carson  murder. 
Well,  something  has  just  come  to  light  which 
has  given  me  a  jolt  that  I  can  lay  my  hand  on 
the  real  murderer.  I  can't  take  my  suspicions 


266  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

to  the  police.  They  'd  probably  laugh  at  me, 
the  evidence  is  so  slender.  Or,  if  they  investi- 
gated, the  murderer  would  get  wise  and  clear 
out.  It  's  clearly  a  case  for  bluff.  And  it 
came  to  me,  driving  you  here,  that  you  are  the 
one  to  work  that  bluff." 

He  reached  out  suddenly  and  caught  her 
wrist.  "  See  here,  kid.  If  you  '11  come  with 
me  as  soon  as  we  can  get  going  to-morrow,  to 
Roland  Gish,  and  say  to  him  what  I  tell  you 
to  say — I  '11  take  you  safe  back  to  Brook- 
bridge  afterwards,  and  no  one  will  be  the  wiser 
about  to-night.  Now — listen  some  more." 

Steadily,  clearly,  while  she  stared,  he  spoke 
a  few  sentences.  As  he  finished,  she  sprang 
to  her  feet,  catching  her  hands  over  her  mouth 
to  stifle  a  scream. 

"  No— no!  Oh— it  is  n't  true— I  could  n't 
— "  she  stopped. 

Haines's  eyes  were  merciless. 

"  We  '11  soon  have  proof  of  the  truth,"  he 
said.  "And  —  you  know  the  alternative! 
You  '11  come?" 

Terry  let  her  hands  fall  and  drew  a  deep 
breath.  Her  face  was  deadly  pale. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  weakly,  "  I  '11  come." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

TERRY  found  herself  driving  into  London  by 
noon  the  next  day.  She  was  large-eyed,  very 
quiet,  and  utterly  subdued.  For  the  first  time 
in  her  inconsequent  life  she  had  been  forced 
face  to  face  with  reality  in  the  raw — with 
something  of  tragedy — and,  incidentally,  with 
the  fact  that  life  is  not  always  merely  a  game. 

She  was  palpably  nervous.  She  had  been 
badly  frightened — there  is  nothing  more  ut- 
terly terrifying  than  a  sense  of  one's  own  utter 
weakness  in  the  hands  of  either  Fate  or  man 
— and  she  was  still  suffering  from  the  effects 
of  shock. 

Once  or  twice,  under  her  lashes,  she  looked 
at  Haines,  sitting  unresponsive  and  grim- 
lipped  at  the  wheel.  He  had  given  her  no 
explanation  of  his  part  in  the  Carson  affair — 
she  was  altogether  bewildered,  and  nearer,  at 
moments,  to  tears  than  she  had  ever  been  in 
her  life.  But  what  perplexed  her  most  was 
that  she  was  not  nearly  so  angry  with  Haines 
as  she  ought  to  be. 


268  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

It  puzzled  her.  It  set  her  thinking.  Not 
long  ago,  she  decided,  she  had  liked  Haines, 
quite  a  good  deal — distinctly  more  than  she 
was  in  the  habit  of  liking  servants;  indeed, 
more  than  she  generally  liked  most  people. 
He  had  seemed  such  a  very  mild-mannered, 
obliging  person.  .  .  . 

She  looked  at  him  again,  and  a  little  flame 
of  colour  rose  in  her  cheeks.  Now,  she  de- 
cided, with  a  complete  change  of  mood,  she 
hated  him!  Then  she  became  subdued  again, 
a  little  sick,  more  than  a  little  frightened. 

Haines  forced  her  to  have  lunch  in  a  pleas- 
ant, unpretentious  restaurant.  He  sent  in- 
numerable telephone  messages,  and  got  up 
once  from  the  table  to  join  a  couple  of  very 
ordinary  neatly  dressed  men  who  had  taken  a 
seat,  halfway  through  the  meal,  at  a  neigh- 
bouring table. 

When  he  came  back  to  her,  he  ordered  wine 
and  forced  her  to  drink  a  glass.  He  had  not 
spoken  throughout  the  meal,  except  to  ask  her 
what  food  she  would  like. 

While  she  ate,  Terry  was  asking  herself 
where  her  spirit  had  gone,  why  she  did  not 
spring  up  and  rush  out  of  the  restaurant,  and 
make  her  own  way  back  to  Brookbridge. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   269 

Perhaps  it  was  the  occasional  flicker  she 
saw  in  Haines's  eyes  when  he  looked  at  her — 
perhaps  that  in  her  heart  of  hearts  she  knew 
a  greater  respect  for  him  than  she  had  known 
for  any  man  in  her  life,  that  prevented  her. 

And  when  at  last  she  found  herself  entering 
the  hotel  in  which  Roland  Gish  was  staying, 
she  turned  to  him  piteously,  appealingly,  her 
lips  moving  mutely.  He  laid  a  hand  over  hers 
then,  holding  it  fast,  and  the  look  in  his  eyes 
was  oddly  warm. 

"  It  's  all  right,"  he  said.  "  You  're  think- 
ing me  a  brute — a  beast — I  know.  It  's  a 
cruel  ordeal.  .  .  .  But  it 's  for  your  own  good, 
kid.  And  for  the  whitest  man  who  ever 
walked.  ...  Go  to  it,  kid,  and  don't  funk. 
We  shall  all  three  be  in  the  anteroom — quite 
close." 

He  indicated  two  men  who  stood  near  by, 
the  same  men  who  had  come  into  the  restau- 
rant a  little  while  previously.  Then  he  urged 
her  towards  the  lift.  The  two  men  went  on 
up  the  stairs. 

Terry  passed  in  to  the  tiny  anteroom  that 
separated  the  sleeping-apartments  from  the 
others,  and  knocked  at  one  of  the  doors. 
Roland  Gish  himself  answered  it,  stared  for 


270  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

an  instant  unbelievingly,  then,  with  a  cry  of 
delight,  drew  her  inside  and  shut  the  door. 

Haines  went  into  the  anteroom  immedi- 
ately; the  two  men,  entering  the  corridor  from 
the  stairway,  hurried  to  follow  him.  Within 
the  room,  Gish  was  shaking  Terry's  hands  up 
and  down  delightedly. 

"Oh,  girl!  What  a  surprise !  You  wicked 
kid — what  does  it  mean?  Just  had  a  frantic 
letter  from  your  mamma  saying  you  'd  dis- 
appeared— was  just  preparing  to  come  racing 
down  to  Brookbridge  to  join  in  the  search. 
What 's  the  big  idea,  baby?  And  where  's  my 
kiss?" 

Unexpectedly  Terry  had  recovered  her  poise 
and  her  courage.  A  curious  excitation  was 
flowing  through  her,  strengthening  her.  She 
looked  at  Gish  with  new  eyes,  calculatingly, 
questioningly — and  wondered  at  her  own  lack 
of  emotion. 

Then  she  drew  her  hands  from  his  and 
stepped  back. 

"  I  came,"  she  told  him  levelly,  repeating, 
in  her  own  words,  the  substance  of  what 
Haines  had  told  her  she  was  to  utter,  "  to  tell 
you — I  am  not  going  to  marry  you!" 

For  a  moment  Gish  stared.  Then  he  gasped. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   271 

"For  the  love  of  Mike!"  he  uttered. 
"  Why?" 

Terry  put  out  the  tip  of  a  pink  tongue  and 
moistened  her  lips.  She  returned  his  aston- 
ished gaze  levelly. 

"  Because,"  she  said,  mechanically,  almost 
parrot-wise,  "  I  know  you  for  what  you  are — 
because  I  know  that  you  are  a  murderer!  The 
murderer  of  Chris sie  Carson!" 

She  never  forgot  the  look  that  leaped  into 
Gish's  eyes.  Horror,  dread,  something  bestial 
in  its  fear.  She  recoiled  from  it  shuddering, 
and  cried  out  as  she  found  his  hands  upon  her 
wrists. 

"  You — "  Gish's  voice  was  thick.  He  was 
utterly  off  his  guard ;  he  had  lost  his  head  and 
his  nerve  alike.  He  shook  the  girl  furiously. 
"  How  do  you  know? — " 

He  choked.  Terry  looked  down  at  her 
bruised  wrists,  and  up  into  his  eyes.  Oddly 
enough  she  was  no  longer  afraid,  only  sick  to 
the  soul  of  her  with  the  horror  of  a  creeping 
certainty. 

"  Everybody  knows  —  or  will  know. 
They  Ve  discovered  that  the  broken  cuff-link 
was  yours — they  Ve  been  making  inquiries. 
You  were  seen  going  into  her  apartment  that 


272   THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

night — coming  out — after  Denham  Carson 
left.  .  .  ." 

In  the  anteroom  Haines  breathed  hard.  She 
had  learned  her  lesson  well,  was  playing  her 
part  as  he  had  never  hoped  she  would  do. 
With  sudden  violence  Gish  flung  her  hands 
from  him.  His  lips  were  twisted  back  over 
his  teeth  in  a  snarl. 

"  That  's  a  lie!  No  one  could  have  seen 
me!  ...  I  was  there  when  she  came  in.  I 
got  out  through  the  window — by  the  fire- 
escape.  It  was  pitch-dark,  and  there  was  n't 
a  soul  about.  Besides,  I  did  n't  kill  her!  She 
nagged  at  me,  stormed — raved — said  that 
Denham  Carson  had  told  her  I  'd  be  through 
with  her.  I  only  hit  out  at  her  and  she  fell! 
God!  You  little  she-devil!  Who  are  you — 
what  are  you — what 's  been  your  game  all  this 
time?  .  .  ." 

Again  in  the  anteroom  Haines  drew  a  deep 
breath.  One  of  the  men  ceased  writing  in  a 
flappy  notebook  with  a  very  stumpy  and  blunt 
pencil.  The  other  opened  the  door. 

Haines  caught  Terry  as  she  stumbled 
towards  him.  Without  looking  back,  he  lifted 
her,  carried  her  down  the  stairs,  past  the 
startled  groups  in  the  vestibule,  and  out  to 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   273 

the  car.  As  it  slid  away  through  the  traffic, 
he  held  her,  limp,  half  fainting,  very  close  to 
him. 

"  Oh,"  he  whispered,  almost  sobbingly, 
"  but  it  was  an  inspiration!  Seventh  sense — 
second  sight — anything  you  like!  Oh,  baby! 
But  you  Ve  got  pluck!  You  pulled  it  through! 
Oh,  kiddy — kiddy!  How  I  love  you!" 

The  culminating  excitement  had  been  too 
much  for  Terry.  Unresisting,  with  Haines's 
cheek  against  hers,  she  burst  into  a  storm  of 
tears. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

LEE  was  in  a  far  too  restless  mood  when  she 
left  Carson  to  go  immediately  home.  When 
she  did,  she  went  directly  to  her  own  rooms. 
It  was  close  upon  the  dinner  hour,  and,  too 
weary  to  dress,  she  sent  her  maid  with  an 
apology  to  Mrs.  Dorice,  and  ordered  a  light 
meal  to  be  brought  to  her. 

She  scarcely  tasted  it,  however,  and  sat 
before  the  uncurtained  windows  staring  out 
towards  the  woods.  A  little  later  her  maid 
brought  her  a  message.  Mr.  Smithers  had 
dined,  and  would  like  to  see  her  in  his  own 
rooms  for  coffee.  For  a  moment  Lee  hesitated, 
an  excuse  hovering  on  her  lips.  Then  she 
changed  her  mind,  slipped  from  her  wrapper 
into  a  long  black  tea-gown,  and  went  softly 
along  the  corridors  to  where  her  husband 
awaited  her. 

There  was  an  ache  in  her  heart  when  she 
thought  of  him,  an  almost  passionate  desire 
to  make  up  to  him  for  her  failing  in  allegiance 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  275 

towards  him  ...  and  yet  she  dreaded  the 
touch  of  his  hand. 

She  went  to  him  across  the  candlelit,  lux- 
urious room  with  shadowed  eyes,  that  met  his 
with  an  effort,  and  dropped  immediately.  But 
while  he  greeted  her  with  his  customary  kind- 
liness, his  manner  was  absent  and  he  was  rest- 
lessly fidgety. 

"  I  thought  you  'd  be  wondering  if  I  had 
taken  root  here!"  he  observed  with  a  faint 
chuckle.  "  I  'm  afraid  I  'm  getting  lazy — 
make  a  touch  of  gout  an  excuse  for  shirking 
my  duties.  .  .  .  Frost,  who  the  devil  is  that 
knocking  at  the  door?" 

The  manservant  moved  quickly  across  the 
room.  Lee  watched  him  with  a  vague  con- 
sciousness that  there  was  something  unwont- 
edly  restless  in  his  manner,  too,  and  dropped 
into  a  chair  at  Smithers's  side. 

Frost  came  back. 

"  A  message  from  Mrs.  Dorice,  sir.  She  has 
had  a  message  from  Miss  Terry — she  wishes 
to  speak  to  madam  at  once.  .  .  ." 

He  looked  at  Lee.  She  half  rose,  and  sat 
down  again  as  Smithers  made  a  gesture.  But 
before  he  could  speak,  the  door  was  pushed 
wide,  and  Teresa  stood  on  the  threshold.  In 


276  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

her  hand  was  an  orange  envelope;  her  pretty 
face  was  suffused  with  unbecoming  colour,  and 
she  was  breathing  jerkily. 

Her  eyes  sought  Lee's,  and  grew  venomous. 

"This  came  hours  ago!"  she  announced. 
She  flourished  a  pink  slip  of  paper  almost 
wildly,  adding:  "  That  fool  of  a  maid  of  yours 
forgot  to  give  it  to  me  until  now.  ,  .  .  Read 
it!" 

Lee  took  it  mechanically;  read  mechani- 
cally. 

Terry  came  away  with  me.    Quite  safe. 

HAINES 

She  opened  her  lips  and  closed  them  again, 
crushing  the  paper  in  her  hand.  Her  husband 
sat  upright.  Mrs.  Dorice  laughed  hysterically. 
With  a  vicious  movement  she  slammed  the 
door  to  behind  her  and  advanced  into  the 
room.  She  did  not  glance  at  Smithers,  her 
eyes  were  on  Lee. 

"That  's  your  doing!"  she  said  tensely. 
"  Oh,  don't  deny  it!  You  Ve  had  a  hand  in 
this  all  along — have  been  against  Terry's  mar- 
riage all  along!  And  I  suppose  you  think 
you  Ve  won.  Perhaps  you  have,  but  mark 
you  this!  it  's  not  going  to  benefit  you  any.  I 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  277 

told  you  I  'd  be  even  with  you  if  you  inter- 
fered— that  I  'd  make  you  smart.  .  .  ." 

She  gulped,  gasped,  and  flashed  a  look  past 
the  girl  at  Smithers. 

"  So  I  will!"  she  went  on  thickly.  "  I  11 
make  you  sorry,  Jason  Smithers,  that  you 
were  ever  fool  enough  to  marry  her — trust  her 
— believe  in  her!" 

Lee  half  rose.  Her  face  was  white,  she  had 
caught  an  unsteady  lower  lip  between  her 
teeth.  Smithers's  hand  on  her  arm  restrained 
her.  He  sat  upright  in  a  curious,  effortless 
way  and  leaned  towards  Mrs.  Dorice. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  mildly,  "  that  you  are 
over-excited — forgetting  yourself.  .  .  ." 

He  did  not  finish.  Teresa's  rage  broke 
bounds.  She  advanced  upon  them,  a  quiver- 
ing little  figure  with  clenched  hands  and  burn- 
ing cheeks. 

"  Forgetting  myself!  .  .  .  It  's  your 
wife  who  has  been  forgetting  herself,  Jason 
Smithers!  You  may  be  blind,  but  I  'm  not! 
I  Ve  watched  her — watched  her  model  visits 
to  the  village  that  have  ended  in  wanderings 
in  the  woods  yonder.  ...  I  Ve  seen  her 
meetings  with  her  lover  in  that  keeper's  hut 
of  yours.  .  .  .  I  Ve  heard  their  love-making 


— listened   to   their   reminiscences   of   other 
meetings.  .  .  ." 

"  Teresa!" 

Lee's  voice  was  a  choked  cry.  Teresa 
looked  at  her  and  laughed. 

"  Ruffs  Island!"  she  mocked  brutally.  "  So 
that  's  where  you  were  that  night — months 
ago — before  you  joined  Patty  Clay!  With  this 
man  who  has  followed  you  here  .  .  .  who — " 

She  stopped  short.  Jason  Smithers  had 
risen.  With  a  gesture  of  his  hand  he  dis- 
missed Frost  to  the  inner  apartment.  Then  he 
laid  it  on  Lee's  arm.  At  his  touch  she  swung 
round,  facing  him,  her  head  flung  back,  her 
face  deadly  white,  her  lips  quivering  piteously. 

"  Oh—"  she  whispered.  "  Oh— it  's  true! 
I  can't  hope  to  make  you  understand.  I 
can  never  hope  to  make  you  understand  any- 
thing but  that!  That  it 's  true!  I — oh,  please 
believe  this — I  'm  sorry,  sorry,  sorry!  Not  so 
much  for  myself,  for  what  I  Ve  done — but 
for  you!  Because  I  Ve  failed  you — failed 
you  miserably,  pitiably — after  your  trust  in 
me—" 

Her  voice  broke.  Upon  her  arm  Jason 
Smithers's  hand  tightened  its  grip.  Before 
she  could  open  her  lips  again,  he  spoke. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   279 

"I  know!"  he  said  very  gently.  "Oh, 
my  dear,  I  know.  I  have  known  all  along. 
.  .  ."  He  was  standing  above  her,  unusually 
upright,  the  stoop  gone  from  his  shoulders, 
the  hesitancy  from  his  voice.  He  went  on, 
very  quietly:  "  I  know  everything — your 
temptations — your  pluck — above  all,  I  know 
the  depths  of  your  loyalty  to  myself! " 

He  laid  his  other  hand  upon  her  shoulder, 
and  turned  her  about  to  face  him,  holding  her 
fast. 

"  Oh,  Lee !  If  there  is  any  one  to  blame — 
any  one  who  should  feel  shame — it  is  I!  I 
think — knowing  you  as  well  as  I  do — I  ought 
to  have  been  honest  with  you.  And  yet — I 
dared  not!  For  your  own  peace  of  mind  I 
dared  not." 

He  stopped.  Upon  the  panels  of  the  door 
there  came  a  faint  rap.  Mechanically,  staring 
from  one  to  the  other,  Teresa  Dorice  opened 
it.  A  servant  handed  her  a  telegram.  Lee 
was  conscious  of  the  sudden  stiffening  of 
Smithers's  body — as  Mrs.  Dorice  held  the 
orange  envelope  towards  him  he  advanced 
with  outstretched  hand,  no  longer  halting,  no 
longer  bent. 

He,  too,  read  the  message  aloud. 


280  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

Gish  confessed  to  Chrissie's  murder  this  morn- 
ing. Arrested.  Bringing  Terry  straight  back 
to  Brookbridge. 

HARRY 

"  My  God!"  Smithers's  lips  were  twitching. 
He  turned  to  the  bedroom  door.  "  Frost — " 
he  called,  shakily,  yet  with  a  strength  in  his 
voice,  a  depth  and  warmth  and  vibrant  clarity 
that  held  Lee  dumb  where  she  stood. 
"Frost—" 

Lee  saw  the  old  servant  run  forward,  saw 
the  meeting  of  his  hand  and  his  master's,  and 
put  her  hands  for  a  moment  against  her 
temples.  She  felt  shaken,  dazed,  utterly  bewil- 
dered. The  voice  that  had  spoken  a  moment 
ago  was  a  voice  long  grown  familiar  to  her — 
familiar,  and  dear.  Fascinated,  swaying  a 
little,  she  stood  watching.  Jason  Smithers 
was  pumping  Frost's  arm  up  and  down  with 
the  energy  of  a  schoolboy. 

"  Frost!"  she  heard  him  say  again,  "  I  'm 
free!  Oh— God!  I  'm  free!  .  .  ." 

And  then  he  turned  suddenly  and  looked 
at  her.  He  took  a  step  nearer  and  his  hands 
went  out  to  her.  His  voice  when  he  spoke 
was  very  deep,  not  quite  steady,  infinitely 
tender. 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   281 

"Oh — sweetheart!"  he  whispered;  and, 
shutting  her  eyes  with  a  strangled,  frightened 
sob,  Lee  saw  a  narrow,  smoky,  wooden  room 
— a  pair  of  vividly  blue,  passionate  eyes — a 
brown,  eager  face.  She  heard  the  whisper  of 
the  bracken  in  the  wind,  the  occasional  snap- 
ping of  a  twig.  .  .  . 

"Sweetheart!"  Strong  arms  gathered  her 
suddenly  close.  "  Don't  you  understand?  It 
has  all  been  a  masquerade — a  mad,  cruel  mas- 
querade. ...  7  am  Denham  Carson  1" 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

IT  seemed  to  Lee  hours  before  that  loved 
voice — Denham  Carson's  voice — spoke  again. 
Weakly  she  struggled  back  from  the  dark 
mists  that  had  suddenly  enveloped  her.  Teresa 
had  disappeared.  Beyond  closed  doors  she 
heard  the  sound  of  Frost's  agitated  footsteps, 
pattering  up  and  down. 

Reluctantly  she  lifted  her  eyes.  Strong 
arms  were  round  her  still — as  she  stirred, 
Carson's  vivid  blue  gaze  met  hers.  As  she 
struggled  to  free  herself,  he  held  her  close, 
pressing  her  head  with  one  strong  hand 
against  his  shoulder. 

The  room  was  still  shadowy,  with  shaded 
candles  and  faint  firelight  to  illuminate  it, 
but  she  could  see  him  clearly.  His  face  was 
no  longer  deeply  brown,  but  white — palely, 
almost  tiredly  white,  as  Jason  Smithers's  had 
been.  Her  bewildered  glance,  straying  past 
him,  went  to  a  little  heap  upon  the  floor  beside 
him — a  lot  of  white  hair,  a  pair  of  smoked, 
horn-rimmed  glasses — a  long  cane.  .  .  . 

With  a  sudden  movement  she  withdrew 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   283 

herself  from  his  hold  and  pushed  him  away 
from  her,  her  eyes  searching  his,  unbelieving 
still. 

"Denham!   .  .  ." 

Her  voice  broke.  There  was  almost  terror 
in  the  pitifully  bewildered  gaze. 

The  man  caught  her  hands  close  and  held 
them  against  his  mouth. 

"  Little  girl!"  he  whispered.  "  Oh— little 
girl  I  .  .  ."  His  own  voice  caught.  "Will 
you  let  me  tell  you  everything — from  the 
beginning?"  he  asked. 

He  went  on,  not  waiting  for  her  reply,  still 
kneeling  beside  her: 

"  It  has  all  been  extraordinarily  simple — 
after  the  first.  And  yet  the  difficulties  have  at 
times  seemed  insurmountable.  .  .  .  You  called 
me  a  madman  once,  Lee.  I  think  I  have  been 
a  madman — ever  since  the  day  that,  after  five 
years  of  prison,  I  tasted  freedom.  And — 
after  I  first  met  you!" 

He  was  silent  a  moment.  Lee  did  not 
move.  She  was  asking  herself,  rather  dazedly, 
if  she  herself  was  quite  sane. 

"  Harry  Haines — he  's  my  cousin,  you  know 
— managed  my  escape;  at  least,  as  far  as 
outside  influences  were  concerned.  Money — 


284  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

enough  of  it — can  work  wonders,  sometimes. 
But  it  took  five  years!  And  all  through  those 
five  years  he  stuck  to  it — he  and  Frost.  I  'd 
never  hoped.  .  .  .  But  one  day  I  found 
myself  free.  .  .  .  We  went  half  round  the 
world  on  a  tramp  steamer  chartered  by  Harry 
and  picked  up  at  San  Francisco  before  we 
touched  an  English  port.  And  then  I  had  to 
lie  low.  It  was  suspected  that  I  had  come  to 
England.  We  had  not  thought  of  a  suitable 
or  adequate  disguise.  We  discovered  Ruff's 
Island — or,  rather,  Harry  did — by  a  fluke, 
and  I  hid  there.  And  then — you  came." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  kissed  her  hands, 
and  went  on  slowly. 

"  You  told  me  all  about  yourself — your 
life.  And — as  you  know — I  loved  you  from 
the  very  first  minute.  I  suppose  I  was  mad. 
Frost  said  I  was — Harry  railed  at  me.  But 
I  had  my  way.  I  could  n't  lose  sight  of  you. 
...  I  became  Mr.  Jason  Smithers,  and — 
again  through  Harry's  influence,  unguessed — 
made  acquaintance  with  your  stepmother.  . .  . 
My  intention  then  was  just  to  see  something 
of  you,  to  be  near  you,  to  make  life  easier  if 
I  could.  I  had  no  idea  how  long  my  disguise 
would  go  unchallenged,  unsuspected.  When 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  285 

you  did  not  penetrate  it,  I  began  to  really 
hope!  And  yet  I  was  afraid — of  a  slip — a 
mistake."  Again  he  paused,  his  lips  twitched 
suddenly,  humorously:  "  I  Ve  never  heard  of 
any  insanity  in  my  family,  but  I  think  I 
must  have  been  insane  when  I  conceived  the 
idea  of  marrying  you — Harry  nearly  had 
hysterics,  and  Frost  fairly  foamed  at  the 
mouth.  I  saw  the  danger  and  the  folly  of  the 
thing  myself,  but  I  could  n't  resist.  I  had 
to  have  you —  be  sure  of  you!  I  utterly  forgot 
what  it  would  mean  to  you  if  I  should  be 
found  out — caught  1  I  Ve  been  a  brute,  Lee, 
all  round — a  brute." 

Lee  stirred,  but  she  did  not  speak.  He  went 
on: 

"  You  were  so  sweet.  .  .  .  The  game  was 
damnably  difficult  to  play,  sometimes.  I  had 
not  realised  what  being  under  the  same  roof 
would  mean!  I  had  to  sham  illness  most  of 
the  time — to  contrive  to  talk  to  you  in  shad- 
owed rooms — to  avoid  the  sunlight  and  the 
open  day.  It  would  not  have  been  so  bad  if 
you  had  not  found  me  downstairs  upon  the 
first  night.  .  .  ." 

Again  Lee  stirred.  Her  wide  eyes  asked 
a  bewildered  question.  He  answered  it,  half 


286  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

laughing,  yet  with  a  shadow  of  recollection  in 
his  eyes. 

"  I  had  to  be  seen  in  London — the  whole 
thing  was  a  huge  bluff  to  keep  suspicion  from 
me  as  Jason  Smithers.  I  let  myself  be  seen 
a  few  hours  before  the  wedding.  When  I 
told  you  that  I  had  journeyed  here  to  Brook- 
bridge  in  your  car  it  was,  of  course,  true — only 
it  was  as  Jason  Smithers.  And,  while  Jason 
Smithers  was  here,  at  Brookbridge,  able  to 
prove  an  alibi, 'I  had  to  keep  up  the  bluff  by 
being  seen  again  in  London  at  night.  Haines 
drove  Terry  back.  I  was  hidden  under  the 
rugs  in  the  back  of  the  car.  I  had  a  nasty 
moment  in  Richmond  when  Terry  wanted  to 
stop,  but  it  was  all  right,  and  we  went  on.  I 
slipped  out  while  Harry  Haines  was  unloading 
her  at  Mrs.  Dorice's  flat.  ...  He  picked  me 
up  in  a  different  car  later  and  exceeded  the 
speed  limit  getting  me  back  here.  I  had  to 
get  in  by  the  window  as  Frost  had  left  the 
door  locked — and  you  caught  me.  ...  I  '11 
never  forget  that  night,  Lee!" 

Lee  put  her  hands  over  her  eyes.  "  It  's  all 
like  some  mad,  fantastic  fairy  tale,"  she  whis- 
pered, "  — a  nightmare  movie  show.  Is  it 
true?" 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE   287 

"  True  enough.  I  recognised  the  truth  when 
I  had  to  live  near  you  and  never  touch  you, 
feel  your  tenderness,  and  dare  no  answering 
caress!  ...  I  had  to  love  you,  make  you 
love  me.  And  so — I  made  you  come  to  me, 
there  in  the  woods.  .  .  ." 

He  rose  slowly,  lifting  her  to  her  feet. 

"  It  was  a  brutal  thing  to  do.  ...  The 
whole  thing  was  cruel,  to  you;  madness  for 
myself.  It  could  not  have  lasted.  You  would 
have  had  to  find  out  the  truth  sometime — 
my  own  strength  would  not  have  been  great 
enough  to  go  on  with  the  deception.  And 
then  Gish  came.  .  .  .  Gish!  .  .  .  and  Frost 
had  recognised  those  cuff-links!  God!  What  I 
don't  owe  him — and  Harry!  ..." 

Lee  put  her  hands  to  her  eyes  again,  and 
let  them  fall.  He  drew  her  close,  bending 
his  face  against  her  hair. 

"  Frost's  '  brown  '  make-up  was  difficult  to 
get  off,  sometimes,"  he  laughed.  "  Do  you 
remember  when  you  asked  the  other  day  if 
I  had  knocked  my  head?  But  it  helped  in 
the  disguise — prison  life  leaves  the  skin 
bleached — like  that  of  an  old  man.  ..." 

He  drew  her  still  closer. 

"  But  I  'm  not  old! "  he  whispered  vibrantly, 


288  THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE 

eagerly.  "  I  'm  not  old,  thank  God!  I  don't 
know  how  this  will  end,  Lee.  There  '11  be 
a  little  while  of  parting — publicity — talk! 
But — Harry  says  Gish  has  confessed,  has  been 
arrested.  It  will  mean — in  the  end — free- 
dom." He  turned  her  face  suddenly  up  to 
his.  "  And  love!"  he  added. 

Lee  drew  a  long  breath. 

"Is  it  real?  ,  .  ."  she  asked  again 
doubting,  dazed. 

The  man  laughed  suddenly,  clearly,  boy- 
ishly, and  in  the  bedroom  old  Frost  stopped 
walking  frenziedly  up  and  down  and  smiled. 

"  It  's  real  enough!"  Denham  Carson  said. 
He  lifted  her  hand  and  touched  the  slender 
band  of  her  wedding  ring.  "  You  married 
Jason  Smithers,  sweetheart.  But  does  it  occur 
to  you  that  " — he  watched  the  flame  of  red 
that  swept  her  face  and  laughed  again, 
tenderly  this  time — "  that  you  're  my  wife!" 

Perhaps  an  hour  later  the  throb  of  a  motor 
sounded  from  without.  His  arm  about  her, 
Carson  drew  Lee  to  the  window.  There  was 
a  full  moon,  and  the  lights  of  the  house  illu- 
mined the  drive. 

They  saw  Haines  jump  down  from  the 


THE  FUGITIVE  MILLIONAIRE  289 

driver's  seat  and  lift  Terry  out.  Toby, 
shrieking  joyous  welcome,  raced  to  meet 
them.  They  stooped  to  pat  him,  and  Terry's 
body  swayed  towards  Haines's.  He  drew  her 
steadyingly  to  her  feet,  and  for  a  moment  it 
seemed  as  if  her  head  rested  against  his 
shoulder. 

Carson's  grip  tightened  upon  Lee.  He 
chuckled. 

"  Good  old  Haines,"  he  said.  "  He  's  scored 
another  win!" 

THE   END 


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